I Can't Write Anymore (1 Viewer)

[Lolita Twist]

What does one do when they have no more stories to tell? They've sobered up and find their life boring, their recovery and post-toxic, post-death memoirs mediocre and mundane? When they can't write sober, and they can't write high or drunk anymore either? When one falls into a deep depression because thoughts do not come clear on paper, when the mind moves too fast for the pen on paper, or fingers on a keyboard? When one has a great idea, and it comes out shit, and two and a half paragraphs in, you've got no more, and you're lost on a half-blank page, and you end the half-paragraph with, "And I can't write anymore, either." What do you do, when you've done something you love your whole adult existence, and you can't do that anymore? It's gone, you think, and it ain't comin' back? When you want to tell your story, but you think lately, no one will give a shit about your story, because you're boring now, with no new insight, not that you can coherently convey, anyway. You're a sober cunt now, and you're ordinary. I never had a muse. I've only had myself as a muse, I guess. And that's gone. I need help. I'm horribly depressed because I can't write anything I like anymore. I can't crank out a decent poem or flash fic to save my life. It would save my life, too. Who's been here, did you get over it, did you write something you liked just as much as you did before you got blocked, or fell into the rabbit hole? What the fuck is wrong with me?

 

[rjwink666]

Take a break for a few weeks, recharge the batteries and you'll find you'll have a renewed enthusiasm for the craft.

 

[Rekrab]

Keep a notebook, a small one, and write very small things in it, and skip doing that for weeks, months on end. Only write in it when something pops into your brain unbidden. Don't write much of the time. Look back at it after you've been doing that for a year or so, and it may seem as good as anything you did when you were on a roll, burning up the paper. Not writing thins the herd and is sometimes a good thing.

 

[Lolita Twist]

Will try the notebook thing. I tried to do that yesterday, wound up with a paragraph and a half. Got pissed off and went to bed. The only problem is, I must have ADD or something, things pop into my brain every second that I think are significant, then I get them on paper and they seem like mundane bullshit that nobody cares about. Ramblings of a woman that's gone insane, boring. But I will keep trying, because I feel sometimes it's the only thing that makes me feel like me again. I still feel like shit though. I appreciate the responses greatly, though.

Take a break for a few weeks, recharge the batteries and you'll find you'll have a renewed enthusiasm for the craft.

I think I took a break, in my first months of sobriety. Then came back to learn that I didn't have it anymore... should I take another break? Keep sober? It's so hard, to do it sober.

 

[Socratease]

I'm sure many, if not all, writers go through such periods. Buk certainly did and his reaction was to write about that. Not saying that approach will necessarily spawn some great writing, but it may help you work through the situation.

things pop into my brain every second that I think are significant, then I get them on paper and they seem like mundane bullshit that nobody cares about.

I've had sleepless nights like that where I had to get up and make notes so that the over-stimulated brain was appeased. In the morning I could make neither head nor tail out of what I had scribbled but that didn't matter.

If you are keen to retain the random thoughts in case there's a jewel or two among them, then you could try audio recording your ramblings, although unformed ideas can often evaporate when one tries to express them orally.

 

[rjwink666]

Maybe substitute a pot of strong coffee for a bottle of red. Use the caffeine to fuel an all night session.

Rekrab mentioned a notepad, maybe go for a walk around your local park / beauty spot and then sit down on a bench and jot something down.

I think the key really is to change things up, find new ways of getting inspired.

 

[Lolita Twist]

God man, I drink coffee now in sobriety like nobody's business. Sometimes, a pot an hour. It's insane. Also always accompanied by at least 2 packs of generic, shitty cigarettes a day. The setting is there, for a cliche, bitter writer. But not the caliber inside, you know? I love walking around the city here, the parks, what not. I must try that, bring the notebook with me. I once sat in a car for about 2 hours outside the supermarket with a notebook, and wrote about church bells, and what a disappointment people were to me, being so mundane, living by walking in and out of supermarkets. I seem now to have become one of those people, who find peace in the sound of church bells. How ironic.

I feel though, that nothing will be as sweet to me in my writing as it was when I was writing about passing out at breakfast. The struggle of the proletariat. It's cliche and it's... well, it's cliche, period. But it made me feel good, like me, like I was doing something for myself, and people like me. Now I don't feel that anymore, when I write about plain beauty, and not the beauty of the bum holding up the, "Can I get a beer, man?" sign.



I've often thought about the audio-recording. I think the problem with me personally is, I see my life like it should be a moving film. And I'd record things dramatically. And they'd come out like lies. I'm positive many, if not all, writers go through periods of block now and then. But this feels different than that, I've been blocked before, that cranked out something great, or that I thought was great. I was always fine with thinking something I wrote was great, even if nobody else did. But now it's like, even I think it's shit. I'm not ok with that. Though I think there is a certain... poetry in incoherent ramblings (just read some Jim Morrison, y'know?) of the insane and depraved and deprived. But this is different. It seems what I come up with lately is just... an incoherent blab of shit that doesn't make sense, even to me, or matter, even to me. What does one leave behind in this world? What is life? You live, you do things you enjoy hopefully, look fondly upon them, you pay taxes unless your Irish like me, and then you die. I don't believe in an afterlife, and I often now think there's just no point to life.

 

[rjwink666]

I totally understand what you are saying about questioning the point of life. But I guess as soon as you start thinking of your place in this gigantic world you're bound to feel insignificant. I know I do. Some people think too much, some don't. Those who don't in my opinion are the lucky ones.

From reading your posts it sounds as though your inner critic is talking a little too loudly, maybe send some of your recent scribbles to a few people you know who will give you honest feedback. It might also help.

 

[Lolita Twist]

I know what you mean. My husband and I both think too much and then we sit there, or lay there and just torture each other with depressing thoughts LOL. It is a curse. I really get the saying "ignorance is bliss" now.

My inner critic is screaming in my ear and making me want to jump off a cliff. I tried to write a poem today. I think it's shit but I'm gonna have Mr. G read it and see what he thinks, he'll be honest. I'll send it to my mother, some other people. But even if they like it, if I don't, I won't be satisfied. It's a vicious circle.

 

[Socratease]

I've often thought about the audio-recording. I think the problem with me personally is, I see my life like it should be a moving film. And I'd record things dramatically. And they'd come out like lies.

I suppose it depends on what sort of writing you are attempting. If it's autobiographical then, IMHO, it requires the ability to describe what appears to you to be the mundane minutiae of your existence but in a way that others find interesting/amusing.

What I really admire most about Buk is his ability to spit out how he felt about his own existence. He does it so well and so often that it must have been theraputic to a large extent, but it takes a huge amount of courage and that may have come from the bottle.

I'm positive many, if not all, writers go through periods of block now and then. But this feels different than that, I've been blocked before, that cranked out something great, or that I thought was great. I was always fine with thinking something I wrote was great, even if nobody else did. But now it's like, even I think it's shit. I'm not ok with that.

Yet, that's possibly a good thing. As Hemmingway reputedly said: "The first draft of anything is shit" -- and that certainly applies to my scribblings.

I often now think there's just no point to life.

Ordinarily I'd say go out and get drunk with some friends and have some gut laughs, but as I gather you're in recovery of sorts I guess that is not to be prescribed. Nonetheless, there is a lot to be said for talking through such feelings with somebody who's a good listener.

If you are seriously depressed, then I urge some professional counselling.

 

[Gerard K H Love]

Are you taking any anti psychotic medication?

Beyond that you can read the rock atop a great man's corpse, "Don't try."

 

[Lolita Twist]

Yeah, it's auto-biographical. Sometimes flash fiction that mirrors my life in some way or another. I'd give my left brain for Bukowski's right, but you know, reality is.

Always loved Hemingway. My husbands grandfather used to drink with him or something like that, met him at a bullfight or something. Apparently in real life he was a bastard, but aren't we all.

I'd LOVE to go get drunk. Believe me, I pine for it, one last time. But yes. Recovering alcoholic. 9 months on the 24th. I try to talk, but... I'm naturally a very clenched person, unless, ironically, I'm drunk or high. So, so much for that.

Been through counseling before. No cigar. I often feel as if no one can help. Even my own husband believes he can't help me.

And, Gerard, no, not taking any anti-psychotics. Haha.

 

[Socratease]

I'd LOVE to go get drunk. Believe me, I pine for it, one last time. But yes. Recovering alcoholic. 9 months on the 24th. I try to talk, but... I'm naturally a very clenched person, unless, ironically, I'm drunk or high. So, so much for that.

I've never been addicted to any substance stronger than nicotine so I can only try to imagine what kicking booze must be like.

The lowest I have ever felt was when my marriage tanked. I was working myself to death and seriously stressed. The thing that got me past that and feeling seriously good was taking up gym. It near killed me at first because I was so out of shape, but I stuck with it and frankly became addicted to exercise because of how well I felt after it.

 

[Lolita Twist]

I could see how exercise would help... I've even gone so far as to try meditation before... but you know, once you've been on a hydro binge for days, nothing feels that peaceful ever again. As far as exercise for me, yeah I can't breathe after running even one block, or going up a flight of stairs (also a smoker)... but I do love walking, does that count? Especially around the city, the characters you see are amazing. Especially in this time of year, summer, when everyone's outside.

 

[Socratease]

I quit the weed a few years before I did the gym thing, but as I was very unfit at the outset I suffered for it. I had a gym trainer and she designed a regime that started out slowly and worked up to a peak over a six month period.

I have to admit here that she was quite good looking so seeing her in lycra became my motivation for turning up each afternoon and working through the pain barrier. Pretty soon however, the muscles and lungs became stronger and I began to get the physcial high that comes from a good workout. By then feeling good was my real motivation, and when I couldn't get to gym for some reason I felt guilty and deprived of my "fix".

Walking is very good exercise as long as it's not just strolling. In order for it to be considered real exercise you need to walk at a pace that works up a sweat and gets the heart pumping, hence a medical is always advisable before commencing any such regime.

Strolling around the city is great for getting story ideas. Evesdropping on bus/train conversations can be fun, too. A game I used to play on the daily train commute was imagining the unheard side of conversations on mobile (cell) phones. The noisy passenger would say something and I'd imagine the response.

 

[Lolita Twist]

I agree that eavesdropping can be a great inspiration sometimes. When I was a kid I used to look out my grandmother's window that overlooked the capital, and I could see the highways and bridges, and I used to make up stories about the people in the cars... where they were going and why. It was great fun and I wrote a lot of my earlier stories about it. And then when I used to go out and do things in the city with friends and family or whatnot, I used to do crazy shit and used to come home and write about that. But it just doesn't happen anymore, because I regret that I've calmed down. I'm still nuts, but just a plain, everyday nuts. I think anyway. :/

 

[Socratease]

Okay, so stop concentrating on your mundane existence for the source of inspiration. It sounds like that lode has been mined out -- at least for the time being. Do you work? Do you have any spare time?

I use some of my spare time doing volunteer work, mainly in the area of reading recovery with school kids in grades 1 to 4. However I am also trained as a volunteer tutor in adult literacy and I have tutored a variety of people in that role, including a 20-something prisoner who was on day release to attend basic English literacy classes at the local college. This guy had left (been kicked out of) school at age 15 with the literacy skills of an 8 year old and his life has been a major struggle as a consequence. Terrific story material. Cooling his heels in jail he eventually realised that he had no hope of rehabilitation unless he learned how to read and write, but that required the sort of effort he had only ever put into criminal pursuits.

So, if you can find time to work with people on such a basis, you'll get story material. After all, "There are eight million stories in the Naked City."

 

[Lolita Twist]

Well that's an inspiring story... but no, I'm unemployed, like so many other proletariat Americans. (Oh, to call myself an American... ugh). Do I have spare time? That depends what you call spare time. Lately I've been spending most of my time at the hospital with my grandmother (dying of lung cancer). She'll have the summer. We'll go to the track (me and my husband) with her and my grandfather. We'll have cigars, win money, play horses. The track is usually a huge inspiration for me, but it opens in July, and I haven't been there since the meet closed in early September of last year. So maybe I should wait for that. As for my other free time... I use it to shower. Occasionally sleep.

 

[Socratease]

How about writing your grandmother's story? You could consider telling it from a number of POVs: hers, yours, her family's, etc.

I well remember reading a story by a regular columnist in a weekend newspaper years ago about the writer's grandmother. It reduced me to tears as it struck a chord with me about my own much loved grandma.

 

[Lolita Twist]

God... I've been trying to write her story for so long. My grandfather's story, too. Shit, their story. But... it seems everything I come up with doesn't do them justice. Like someone said up there, my inner critic...she's a bitch.

 

[Mark73]

Hey Lolita! I'm seriously worried about you. I don't know if it might help to tell you that I suffered from the heaviest depressions twice in my life, but I know what it is like to feel like a worthless pile of shit with no satisfying idea about life in general, no direction to take, trapped in a dead end street and everything around and inside you is grey puke. And to top things of, no one understands what's going on with you. Those who care even piss you off with their advices cause they have no clue about the hell you're in.

So I do hope I won't piss you off.

Don't judge too soon. I mean, what do you expect? If you're sober for a short time now your whole life has changed. You just can't expect things to go on as usual if the usual thing was being drunk and/or high. And whatever you consumed for years, your body and mind ( the chemicalbioelectric machine in magical connection to your soul/spirit/consciousness/self ) has to get used to the new sobriety. So don't judge to soon. You can write, asshole.

I see so much beauty in your lines of self-hatred, you've proved in this thread that you can still write. Grab this process you're in now by the throat and squeeze the goddamned life out of it, write about how you hate the ordinary beauty and how church bells suck so much you want to AK-47 them. Write about your inner chaos and confusion, emptiness and doubt. You can do it. I believe in you. It might become your best material. Catharsis, honey. Stop thinking, start writing. I freaking like you.

 

[Socratease]

God... I've been trying to write her story for so long. My grandfather's story, too. Shit, their story. But... it seems everything I come up with doesn't do them justice. Like someone said up there, my inner critic...she's a bitch.

Some suggestions:

Start with a plan or chapter outline. If necessary pinch one from another bio, anything to get the structure.

Research the family tree -- warning from personal experience: genealogy is very addictive and can easily take over your entire waking life and your dreams, too. Believe me!

Formulate questions around the outline and tree.

If grandmother is up to, and willing to, talk let her do it and record it.

Write it up verbatim and go back and ask more qqs to fill in gaps where necessary.

Then, when you feel you've got sufficient material for each chapter, craft it into coherent paragraphs, etc.

Suspend judgement! Concentrate on getting that first draft finished.

Put first draft aside for a week or so and forget about it.

Then, go into editor mode and cut out the waffle.

When you have it as good as you can get it, give it to a trusted person to read and critique.

Pay attention to that feedback -- you may choose to ignore their comments and suggestions, but feedback from a good critic is gold.

 

[Lolita Twist]

Post Toxic! Who would've known... well I tell you, that message right there was inspiring. Thank you :). I get depression, and I'm inn 100% agreement with you. You didn't piss me off, I think you get it. Yes, my whole life has been flipped on it's ass. It's just so hard to be here, like I'm locked in limbo between a drunk and sobriety, no happy medium. Nothing's happy.

You can write, asshole.

Ha! :)

Well, self-hatred can often be beautiful, I suppose, just hard to see it when you're the one hating on yourself, y'know? Long live catharsis, though I find it impossible to stop thinking. My mind hates me, wants to kill me. But it would be so nice to be able to write again, about all that shit you just said. I'll try my damnedest.

I freaking like you back.

And Socratease, just saw your post when I posted this (this is an edit)... that would be so fun to do. If she's up to it, I'll totally give it a try. I'm just afraid that she'll leave something out and then I'll be a liar. And I'm afraid if I suspend judgment in the first draft, then I'll lose some precious jewel in the depths of my mind. It's scary, ennit?

 

[Socratease]

I'm just afraid that she'll leave something out and then I'll be a liar.

Reminds me of another thread where granddaughter of Barbara Frye had similar concerns and seemed to be stalled at the starting gate as a consequence. Who really cares what is left out? I recommend not trying to be a historian but rather a storyteller.

And I'm afraid if I suspend judgment in the first draft, then I'll lose some precious jewel in the depths of my mind. It's scary, ennit?

But you must suspend judgement to have any hope of finishing the first draft. It's toxic in narrative writing to keep reviewing the last sentence you wrote. Just belt the damn thing out. If you work to a structure, and jot notes under the headings as they occur to you, then you won't lose any jewels.

The key thing is to do it. After all, writers write.

 

[Lolita Twist]

I believe Hank Moody said that once. "No, I'm not a writer. Writer's write." I'm gonna try this stuff. I sure hope it works. Thank you guys.

 

[Socratease]

It'll work for no other reason than you'll make it work.

Another tip: if after mapping out a structure you find the task of a full bio too daunting, take a tip from those who successfully adapt biographies to the screen: concentrate on a particular period or episode of the subject's life.

 

[Lolita Twist]

I've tried writing things in pieces before. I have to say the outcome is unfavorable, mostly, because then I believe, for me, it messes with the flow. But I'd certainly try it again.

 

[number6horse]

... I'd give my left brain for Bukowski's right.....

That's a pretty good line right there !

I think David's advice was solid about getting a small notebook and writing down a few things as they come to you. He recommended a year but you might see results much sooner. And send me a couple of poems if you want.

My own advice would be to not over-think this. Don't over-analyze. It's like struggling in quicksand - just makes things worse.

 

[Gerard K H Love]

Do you want someone to tell you to start drinking again? Please don't.

 

[zenguru]

Lolita, as someone who's been through a mentally crippling depression, I know how it feels to think you've lost it. I couldn't write a damn thing for over four years at one point. I thought I would never get it back. But I DID. And I've never written better in my life.

A break is never a bad thing. Maybe you need one so you won't feel pressured to write something great all the time. So you write some shit down and stow it away. Look it up later and see if you can do something with it then.

I know from reading your posts you have passion for writing. It may be away from you now. But it will come back.

 

[strangegirl]

Just keep writing, even if it's in little spurts. Maybe you just have to get through the shit to get to the good.
9 months sober is really fantastic and it is a major life change. It may take time for you to find that thing you misplaced but you will find it. Refocus, re-channel.
I met a song writer who wrote really great songs and I asked him how he was able to do it and he told me that he would write hundreds of shit lyrics and then eventually would write one he liked. Even thought he slogged through the shit he kept going.
You will find it in your own time but don't get discouraged.
Just keep going forward.:)

 

[Socratease]

Even thought he slogged through the shit he kept going. You will find it in your own time but don't get discouraged. Just keep going forward.:)

Yep, writers write every day. They cannot not write. They keep going. Look at Buk. After his 10 year hiatus, once he decided that he was a writer and poet, he sat down every night and typed out a lot of shit (some of which we get to read today) but among that were plenty of real gems.

 

[a beautiful tragedy]

Lolita, as a writer, I can certainly understand what you're going through in terms of creative block. Don't force it, I find that when I'm going through these sorts of things that a new way of writing is being born. Sometimes you have to let the old way die out or leave to make room for the new way.

I suggest you find something great to read and fuck the writing for a while. Music can also get you out of a funk or just watching a great movie.

Just wait, you'll be back to writing in no time. None of that other stuff made you write, you always had that power from the start. When you can't hear it, just wait.

 

[Lolita Twist]

That's a pretty good line right there !

It made me chuckle. ;)

And, perfect metaphor, yes, indeed, I feel like I am struggling in quicksand. I can't... breathe. Ha.

And, Gerard... the only person, sadly, that could tell me that would be my husband. I know they always say one can't quit for anyone but themselves... but obviously I've defied that, because I met him, and quit, because I wanted love more than I wanted substances. I read the poem today, "So You Wanna Be A Writer"... and it just got to me. One really shouldn't do things for other people. I'm happy I quit, because I love my husband dearly and have no idea what I'd do without him. But, I feel like I've been robbed out of part of my personality, the addict, the alcoholic. But this is starting to sound like too much of a therapy session...

zenguru, you're telling me this could last 4 years? Shit... my heart goes out to you. But I'm happy you've got it back.

The thing with me though, is I'm almost afraid to write right now, afraid of what shit it will be.

don't be dull and boring and
pretentious, don't be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don't add to that.
don't do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.

there is no other way.

and there never was.
-CB