The following is from the article “How to Get Unstuck” by author Dennis Cass in the Jan/Feb 2010 issue of Poets&Writers:

 

An experiment: You enter a large room that’s empty except for two pieces of string dangling from different points on the ceiling. Your instructions are to get hold of a piece of string in each hand, but after grabbing the first string you quickly learn that the other is too far away. A scientist comes into the room and hands you a pair of pliers. You try using the pliers to seize the second string, but as much as you lean and stretch, it remains just out of reach.

The solution (and there is one), you ask? Tie the pliers to the second string and give it a gentle shove, walk back to the first string, take it in hand, and wait for momentum to bring the pliers, thus the other string, to you.

Folks, at this very moment, I’m that moron in the room leaning and stretching with the pliers in my hand to reach the other string. In writing circles, this could be a metaphor for an affliction called “writer’s block.” I prefer to call it “the dumb.” As in, I can’t brain today, I have the dumb.

It’s that time of year when I’m most likely to suffer from the dumb. The holidays have sucked me mentally and emotionally dry, my kids have been cooped up with me during their school break, and I haven’t written a word in weeks. I’m cranky, tired and the writer part of my brain has gone rusty. Just today, I sat staring at the same scene of my story for twenty minutes, debating whether or not to write the dialogue of a telephone conversation or just narrate it in a few quick sentences. Dialogue or narrate. Dialogue or narrate.

Who cares. Time for some chocolate and a good Law and Order rerun on cable. 

I don’t get “writer’s block” in the traditional sense. I don’t get to the point where I can’t form a sentence or worse, completely run out of ideas to finish my story. As I said, I suffer from a condition I like to call “the dumb,” which means I’m forging sentences, composing scenes and laying out the plot, but everything just sounds utterly and completely, well, dumb. And I don’t mean dumb in the I’m-having-an-attack-of-confidence kind of way. I mean dumb as in my brain is just engaged enough to move my character from point A to point B on the page, but not engaged enough to make the journey interesting. Or even care if said character makes it to point B. I’m just going through the motions.

It’s like that scene from the movie A League of Their Own where Geena Davis is the catcher of a female baseball team and she goes out to talk to the struggling pitcher during a bad inning. Tom Hanks, who plays the coach, joins the discussion and asks Geena Davis point blank if the pitcher should be pulled. Geena finally relents and says, “She’s toast. She’s throwing grapefruit.”

Yep. That’s how it feels. I’m throwing grapefruit.

A young writer friend of mine came up with a genius recipe for those of us who suffer from The Dumb.

You’ll need:

3 good books

1 piece of paper

2 liters of Coke

1 pillow

1 pencil

3 Hershey bars

1 2X4

Step 1:  Read your first book from cover to cover.

Step 2:  If Step 1 fails, repeat with the other two books.

Step 3:  If Steps 1-2 fails, take the pencil and write every plausible (and implausible) idea that comes into your head on the piece of paper.

Step 4:  If Steps 1-3 fails, eat your Hershey bars and drink at least 1 liter of Coke.

Step 5:  If Steps 1-4 fails, beat yourself in the head with the 2X4.  Repeat until successful.

Step 6:  If all else fails, bury your face in the pillow and scream. 

Sage words, Nathan. Should get my pair of pliers swinging any day now.

Happy New Year All!

My New Year’s Resolution: No more grapefruit!