Newsflash: Art is Hard

Some days the struggle is more than real—it’s torture.

It's rainy. It's cold. Personally I'd like to be snuggled up in a blankie with a good book. But here I sit in front of a computer, brain dead, when I should be pounding out the next great American novel. Why is this so hard?

Great question. Tough answer. Because here’s the thing about writing or any other form of art…it is hard. Not like sweet-mercy-I-just-jumped-from-a-32-story-building-and-landed-noggin-first-on-concrete kind of hard. I’m talking the exploding-brains-from-creativity-overload type. And you don’t really realize that until you sit down and try to write a book.

It’s easy to talk a good game about a story idea, but when you park your rear in a rolly-desk chair and try to pound out that story, that’s when that reality sets in. So do the shakes. And the terror that kind of makes you feel like wetting your pants. Such is the power of a blank screen.

So, what to do when the going gets hard? Here are some ways to cope…

Own your fear, then open the door to that nightmarish birdcage and set it free.

Denying you’re afraid makes it worse. So does running from it or hiding. Admit to yourself that yeah, you’re scared to write and you don’t have a clue what you’re doing, then cut that bait and write anyway. Writer’s write. Painter’s paint. Singer’s sing. Push past the fear and do what you gotta do.

Phone a friend.

Writing is a solitary occupation. Any art is a solitary occupation (except for trapeze artists because dang, if they do a flip in midair from one bar to another, somebody better be there to reach out and grab them if they miss). When the going gets tough, you should reach out to another buddy who’s inhabited the same pit of despair and left behind claw marks on the walls to show you the way out.

Stop Working and Play

Before you get all excited about a rousing game of Dodge Ball, that’s not the kind of play I’m suggesting. On days when I can’t manage a word of dialogue or set a scene to save my life, I give myself permission to play with words in a different way. Maybe I look up great lines of literature and rewrite them in my own voice. Or other times I’ll zone out with a round of Boggle or other word game. The point is to put your mind on some other form of the same art and often times that’s enough to get you back in the grove.

Of course these things don’t always work. Some days it’s better to just put your pen down and walk away before you stab yourself—or worse, someone else. And you know what? That’s okay, too (taking a break, not stabbing…I’m not condoning violence here). Taking a break from your art is a valid coping mechanism as well.

There’s nothing easy about creating something beautiful. Don’t expect it to be simple.