Clutter is not what is holding you back as a writer. Neither is it your mother, your father/the nuns/the second-grade teacher who told you writing has no value. Your job is not holding you back, nor are your children, your dog, your house or your own illness/addiction. And it’s not your inclination toward procrastination that is holding you back as a writer, nor is it your searing inability to stop obsessing about all those other successful writers out there and how their lives do not include dogs/kids/aging parents/leaky roofs, closets that need to be cleaned right this minute or a kitchen floor that needs to be mopped. There is one single thing holding you back as a writer and here it is.

You just do not know what to write next.

That’s it. That’s all. And that we can fix. So, drop the mop and let’s get back to work, shall we?

How To Stop Being Blocked as a Writer

If you did know what to write next, you’d write it. You’d get it on the page. And nothing would get in your way. Nothing would be holding you back as a writer. You’d write it on a matchbook cover, perhaps, but you’d write it. You’d scribble it on the Kleenex box, but you’d write it. You’d type it onto your phone and send it to yourself. I know you would. You’re a writer, after all.

Because here is the heretical truth: There is no such thing as writer’s block. And for our purposes, let’s agree from this moment on that there is no such thing as being stuck, even if it seems like you are.

What is there? There is writing and not writing. There is no door number three, and from this day forward that is how you are to view writing. If that doesn’t work, think of it this way: Writing is gestation, meaning you’re either pregnant or you’re not. There is no such thing as being a little bit pregnant, after all, so think of everything you write as in its gestation period and get on with it because just like that, there is no such thing as being a little bit of a writer, a kind-of writer, a semi-writer, right? So, stop behaving like one. And since we now agree that there is only writing and not writing, which of those choices do you want to make?

I thought so.

How to Write No Matter What

Let me be clear: You have a life. You have kids or dogs or a sick spouse. You have aging parents. Your roof needs repair. You might think you have too many shoes (though I, personally, would never admit to this). Your dog needs to go to the vet weekly. And then there is that kitchen floor. I know all about that. But they are not what is holding you back as a writer. But here’s a reality check for you that is going to get you going: You can write anywhere. So, stop waiting for perception or calm or quiet. Stop waiting for the best place in the world. And for goodness sake, stop building that office or decorating that corner of your perfect world and, whatever you do, do not fall into the trap of believing that decluttering your life is what is needed right now.

I practically have to climb into my office chair every day, so full is my office with books and manuscripts (some of them your wonderful work from my memoir coaching business) and the recording equipment for my podcast, the photos of my family and dog, the dog himself, trinkets, objects and weird plants my sister gives me (have you ever seen a five-year old Boweia? See left), as well as the file folders for the three boards on which I serve.

How to Write Amid the Clutter

What to do with an office like mine? Climb and write. Sometimes I actually say this out loud to myself. It’s an ethic I’ve learned from knowing way too many artists who spend all day straightening pictures on their walls, cleaning their houses and generally putting everything other thing first. Sick parents, small children and dogs you cannot ignore, absolutely. You tend to those who need you. But clearing out closets, mopping floors and the rest can wait until… well, it can all wait. My husband and I have a deal that we do not even entertain for some very long stretches of time. Those are times when we are otherwise just working and not interested in creating or maintaining a dinner party, guest-friendly house. When we are, we do the work for that. When were not, we do the work we do.

The other thing I say to myself a lot – and I do mean a lot – is this: “Marion, don’t look.” This means not to look at the inevitable slobber spots on the wall from living with a dog; not to look at the pile from last year’s taxes still waiting to be filed. Instead, I say to myself, “This is a writer’s house. This is what a writer’s house looks like.” And you know what? It works.

You know how much you love visiting spaces where other people create magnificent things? Next time you do, notice what the painter you admire has on the floor. That’s right: Paint. Me, I have things on my walls, books on my desk and weird plants that keep me company. And the Tidy Up movement can’t have any of them.

Tidy office, tidy mind? Who says? (I mean, I know who says, but I don’t buy it). You write where you are. You write from here. You climb and write. (Maybe we should get that on a t-shirt).

Start Here to Write Well

My first job out of college was at The New York Times. There were perhaps 400 people in one large room – the newsroom – talking, typing, smoking, interviewing people, walking, pacing, dialing the phone and more. There were no cubicles. There were – wait for it – typewriters. Clanging away. Lots and lots of people typing for all hours of the day and night.

It was the best training a young writer could ask for because there was no time, no space and no reason to tidy up to spark any joy. And guess what? Joy was all around. It was magnificent. And it was understood that every single one of those people had other lives at home. But there, in that inky, messy, loud, non-private newsroom, they created a miracle every single day. They wrote. So write.

No, I am not bragging. Nor am I espousing an anti-Marie Kondo lifestyle (though I kind of am, aren’t I?). I am saying that you need to work where you are. The expression we use in my household is “From here,” as immortalized by one of my students, and now dear friend, who made me – and yes, it, too sits on my desk – this piece of art.

No, it’s not clutter that is holding you back as a writer, though that it is a tidy place to lay the blame, as are dogs, parents and kids and spouses. But let’s not do that. Let’s write, instead.

How to Move Into Writing

Much of writing is research. Even if you are writing a piece of memoir provoked by something that happened today, a little research will fill out your thinking and therefore give you something to work with.

Here’s a trick. It begins with a simple book I’ve recommended you have at your elbow. It’s your Thesaurus, and not the one you have on your computer. That one is not up to this task. Instead, get out the book version.

Let’s say you are writing a piece that is about mercy. Maybe earlier today you showed some mercy to something or someone. That is what your piece is about. What do you know about mercy? Well, writing about it will prove really hard if you do not broaden what you know. In fact, you’ll run out of things to say quite quickly unless you do a little bit of research.

So do this: Look up “mercy” in the dictionary and in the Thesaurus. Then go read a few pieces on the qualities of mercy from some good source like Psychology Today.

Then, think about that experience you had with mercy and see how much more broadly you can now ponder its qualities. See how you’ve been given a whole new, broad palette of language from which to choose and a whole new series of thoughts about what mercy does for others and for yourself?

Use it.

How to Love Researching a Book

If you want to hear a lovely riff on adoring research, listen in to my interview with author, Julia Flynn Siler on the QWERTY podcast. The author of two New York Times bestsellers, Flynn Siler knows how to get to work and live a writer’s life, and she shares her secrets with you on just that in the episode.

After listening, think of how your piece of memoir that takes place in your family house might benefit from some backstory on that house — its architecture, when it was built and for whom; the people who lived there before you. That kind of research is done at your local historical society.

See how this goes?

You are not moving forward as a writer for the simple reason that you do not know what to say next. And, as far as I can see, that has nothing whatever to do with how many shoes you possess. What are you doing when you clean your closet? You are searching for how to spark joy by having fewer shoes, and how is that in any way about writing? I say, keep the shoes and write. (Let’s get that on a t-shirt, too). And why not write, when there is so very much to write about?

The Divine Role of Structure

Once you’ve done some research, you are ready to start thinking about the structure of the piece, op-ed or book you are writing. Because, no matter how grand or beautiful, smart or compelling your idea for a piece, the thing has to be structured.

And structure defies being stuck every single time out.

Why? Because it defines your next assignment. If you know that every piece of memoir is three acts, and you break those three acts into scenes, and those scenes into beats of your argument, you can assign yourself to write any beat in any order and never run out of work to assign yourself.

Once you learn to plan a book, you will never run out of pieces to write. And that, my writing friends, is the ultimate goal of a writing life — to always have more work. It’s never to clean your closet. Not as far as I can tell.

Want more help?

• Follow Me on Instagram as I teach in short, vivid photos

• Join me in a live, online memoir class

Memoirama: Live, 90 minutes. Everything you need to write what you know.

Memoirama 2. Live, two hours. Limited to seven writers. What you need to know to structure a book.

How to Write Opinion Pieces: Op-eds, Radio Essays and Digital Commentary: Live, 90 minutes. Get your voice out into the world.

And keep in mind that I am now taking names for the January-June, 2020 Master Class, the prerequisites for which are Memoirama and Memoirama 2. Live, once a month. Limited to seven writers. Get a first draft of your memoir finished in six months.

Photo credit: alyss.a on Visualhunt.com / CC BY-NC-ND

Photo credit: a way to garden