Write On! Features: What Is Writer’s Block? by Rupert Wolfe-Murray

By Rupert Wolfe-Murray

I just had an insight: writer’s block isn’t a single obstacle on the road to productivity; it’s not just a feeling of depression that removes the motivation to write.

I’m having a writer’s block moment right now and I want to describe it. In short, writer’s block is a lot of ‘chatter’ that’s holding me back — but I need to explain the meaning of this, provide some background, or it won’t make any sense. Hopefully, this article will help anyone who’s struggling to write and is being held back by their inner critic saying things like: ‘You’re not good enough! Nobody gives a damn about what you think! Don’t bother! Go back to bed!’

If you have an inner critic who stops you from writing or being creative, you’re not alone. I’ve learned to deal with mine by writing about him. But that’s another story (it’s actually a half-written book).

Another creativity-killer is perfectionism, in which the inner critic takes over completely and stops the host body from even attempting to do something creative, as it will never be ‘perfect.’ Luckily, I don’t suffer from that condition, perhaps because my mother used to say:”Nobody’s perfect.”

What’s this new revelation about writer’s block?

In answer to my own question What is Writer’s Block? I can reply with a one-word answer: distractions! In other words: social networks, the news, AI, email and so on. It’s tempting to say this is all new (“I blame it on social media!”) but I’m sure writers have been plagued with Writer’s Block since the first ancient scribe put quill to parchment.

Surely this is a problem everyone faces when trying to do something creative, or even tasks around the house that you ‘should’ be doing every weekend?

A more important question is: How do you deal with these distractions? Hopefully you, the person reading this, will share your insights (leave a comment below) but, for my part, I’d like to explain what happened to me this morning and what experience has taught me in terms of dealing with it.

To put this story into context, I need to give you a little context. What am I up to? As I’m writing this, I’m preparing to publish my next book – 12 Jobs in 12 Months – out at  the end of March, with a new Edinburgh publisher called Stone Book Press. My main task has been to  build up my profile on YouTube: making lots of videos and planning a book promotion tour consisting of me selling copies directly on the street (I call it ‘book busking’).

Some people think you can write a book, or be creative, whenever you feel inspired. But moments of inspiration are rare and, as far as I’m concerned, the only way to write a book, or an article for that matter, is to have a strict routine: a time of day when you start and a minimum number of hours actually working. I keep a log of when I start (I aim for seven am) and have a daily target of how many minutes I plan to work. I also keep a record of how many minutes I actually work. I aim for about four hours a day but when I’m travelling, or working on gardening jobs, it drops to an hour a day. If you want to see my log (a spreadsheet), and how often I’ve missed my own goals, I’d be happy to share it with you. You might find it useful as a way to monitor your own writing routine.

I’m always adjusting my work plan and my latest resolution is to get up every morning at five am and do at least two hours of work. Then I can have a break, maybe a nap, do some more writing or maybe something else. This routine works best when I have another job, such as painting and decorating, as then I must finish writing by eight am. But when I have the whole day available it feels as  though I have endless time (12 hours) and the next thing I know, I’m watching endless YouTube videos about Russia burning itself out in Ukraine.

So what happened today?

This morning, I got up at a quarter to five, just before my alarm was about to go off,  and I was fully charged and ready to write. My brain was clear, as a good sleep had swept away yesterday’s fog of fatigue and excess information. I knew this was a perfect moment to write, as all the elements of creative energy and motivation were in place. All I had to do was go upstairs into the attic, where I’ve made a cosy writer’s den.

What I did instead was go downstairs to make a cup of tea, a task that shouldn’t have taken more than five minutes. But then, as the kettle boiled, I took my phone (which I always leave downstairs as it distracts me at night, preventing a good sleep) and made the first of several bad deals with myself:

“I’ll listen to a short update from Ukraine,” I said, turning on YouTube, “and go upstairs in a couple of minutes.”

The kettle was boiled, the tea was ready but I’d moved on… to another video. This one was about the mad leader of the USA leading their nation into the pit of doom (the same thing is happening in China and Russia and I find it fascinating– it’s like watching the result of a multiple car crash).

Meanwhile, my girlfriend’s sausage dogs were demanding food and that would only take me a couple of minutes and I filled the audio gap with a video about China. I may as well light the fire as Lesley, my girlfriend, will be working at home today.

Half an hour zipped by and I convinced myself  I’d worked up an appetite. “There’s some mushrooms in the fridge that need eating,” I muttered,  “along with some nice bread and I can watch another interesting video. I’ve earned myself breakfast after all that hard work!”

By the time I made it to the attic, an hour and a half had gone by. Where? I have no idea! My energy had gone. I was ready for a nap. I lay on the sofa, listened to another video and vegetated. Referring to my log for that day, I started work at 06:26 but knocked off an hour later. Pathetic. I started again at 08:43 and worked for three hours. Better. Then I did a final flourish at 16:01 for a two-hour session. That wasn’t bad for a day’s work – five hours in total– but if I’d started at 06:00 I could’ve been done by 11:00 and for the whole afternoon I could’ve done other stuff.

What can be done about Writer’s Block?

I remember working in Romania just after the fall of Communism. Every time there was a problem, the government would pass a law and declare it solved – even though everyone would ignore that particular law, as well as all the other ’emergency government ordinances’ that were passed every day.

Can someone invent a law to ban Writer’s Block? It’s a nice idea if you don’t think about it for more than a few minutes.

The only real answer is obvious: an enforcement regime. In government terms, that would mean a police force and a legal system but for a writer it just means following your own routine. Doing what you’ve set out to do. Sticking to your own plan –  a lot harder to do when nobody is watching over you, nobody is expecting anything from you, nobody is going to give you a hard time for not delivering.

Following my own routine is easy when I’m writing a book, because every morning I can easily pick up from where I left off. This advice from Hemingway also helped me: Stop in the middle. Never stop working at the natural barriers. Then next time you start working, the barrier will be the first thing you encounter, and you won’t have the momentum to overcome it. Try to stop writing mid-chapter, or mid-sentence or mid function).

The problem with writing an article is that you have to come up with a new idea, as you do with a book, but you don’t have the momentum you can get when writing a book. It takes a lot of mental energy to not only come up with an idea but to actually get out of bed and start writing it. But once you get over these immense barriers and the article starts to flow, you feel a thrilling sense of excitement.

What advice have I got for other people?

I would say don’t bother writing, as getting published is a thankless task that often ends in humiliation. But that misses the point, as I know that a writer writes because he/she has to. It’s a way of expressing ourselves and it doesn’t ultimately matter if anyone reads it or not. The value of writing is in the act of doing it.

I write because it’s the best way I can think about things. When I talk, I easily get diverted, sidetracked, or obsessive about getting my point across. I can become a bore. When writing, I can be reasonable, moderate, kind and (hopefully) interesting.

The best bit of advice about how to write is just set yourself a daily programme, and not work more than four hours a day (the bigshot writers I’ve read say that after four hours your brain essentially runs out of creativity). Even with just 30 minutes a day, you could write a book in a year, if you simply pick up from where you left off.

And Writer’s Block? All you can do is learn to deal with it and accept the fact that some days are going to be duds.

Let me know what you think. If you relate to any of this, please get in touch, I’d love to hear from you!

(c) Rupert Wolfe-Murray, 2026

Rupert Wolfe-Murray is a travel writer and gardener, author of 12 Jobs In 12 Months. He posts daily videos: https://www.youtube.com/@12JobsIn12Months — about writing, travelling and working and blogs at https://rupertwolfemurray.com