Written by Otaku Apologist

Here’s how to crush writer’s block, and it’s not more research, not more reading, not more prep-work for your next chapter: Write what you truly feel inside, as flawed and insane as your deepest passion yearns to manifest itself on paper. Sit your ass down and write!

You don’t have “writer’s block”. This isn’t some sports injury you got that manifested in a psychological condition that stops you from writing. No, you’re just a pussy. Your creative flow is blocked, because you worry about how other people will perceive your writing. You are paralyzed by your fear of rejection, fear of judgement, fear of this and that. Because you’re a pussy.

The issue of your writer’s block is likely to be the manifestation of a countless number of painful childhood experiences that resulted in your mind becoming a neurotic, fear-filled mushy mess that can’t even function on a basic level. You have no idea what you feel, what you want, who you are, your relationships with people and ideas are messed up and you’re just paralyzed as a person.

And this paralysis leads you to have a pussy attitude towards writing. Oh no, they might be offended!

The method to beat writer’s block is to just fucking write. Stop thinking about writing, talking about writing, stop wanking over how you enjoy writing, what you want other people to feel about your writing, and just fucking write. Beat out the words and keep going, and going, and going, instead of endlessly wallowing in the million different potential paths your creative work could take.

Now, you got a couple of options here. One, suicide is actually totally valid. You can write the most epic suicide letter that will be remembered forever in the scarred minds you left behind, or, you can pull the pin and splatter the walls with your musings. Express the violence of your primal desires and spray the paper with your blood. That is art: Self-expression of your deepest self, uncaring of what is socially appropriate.

Just like in a street knife fight, if you never reach for a stab, you never learn how to land a kill. The same goes for audiences: Stab their hearts, stab their brains, slice their expectations of what comes next until they scream in delight, those masochistic bitches, fuck ’em.

Write imperfect prose. Write shitty dialog. Write stupid plots that just go nowhere. You may have noticed even the best works of art are flawed. The imperfection doesn’t fuck over the piece of fiction, it’s what makes it live. You don’t go to an art gallery to stare at paintings after a hard week at work, you don’t give a shit. You call your ex-girlfriend and tell her you wanna fuck her bareback. You call up your buddies and get smashed. You let loose, you go, you make mistakes you’ll regret the next 20 years of your life. The same goes for writing.

The written word is supposed to entertain. And when you’re bored, you don’t write a perfect scene with pitch-perfect multilayered dialog with subtexts that will resonate the next 1000 years of literature. When you’re bored, you rape your main character’s love interest, you write in a terrorist who kicks the door in and mows down your underdeveloped side characters. You resurrect your long-dead main villain with bullshit plot magic and worry of the consequences later. Make brave creative decisions and build on them.

Writer’s block is nothing more than insecurity over the reactions of your audience. But every solid writer knows, the audience is just a bunch of working-class and middle-class wankers who are just bored. Entertaining those fuckers means not giving a shit about them.

So, that’s what you do. You stop being a pussy and just write. Some of your stuff may actually turn out alright.