What to Say When You Have Nothing to Say

You may have noticed that it’s been nearly a month now since my last post, which is really something considering that I typically post weekly, if not biweekly. So what gives? I’m afraid it’s finally happened: the inevitable, dreaded and paralyzing dry spell.

Writer’s block.

So what do you say when you really have nothing to say? Every writer must ask themselves this at some point or another. Whether you’re writing the next great American novel or a 250-word blog post, you want your words to count. If you didn’t, why bother? You want them to matter. To persuade, reach, move, enlighten and inspire. And when they don’t, the resulting blank page before you, once gleaming with promise and possibility, inflicts a soreness of crippling disparity in the taunting form of a blinking cursor. A writer’s nightmare.

Usually, whenever a solid dose of writer’s block wipes me clean of inspiration, I twiddle my thumbs and wait for a divine strike of enlightenment, an encouraging line of prose from bygone literary gods or a muffled whisper from the dusty recesses of my brain. Typically, I assume the passive position and wait. And wait. And wait. And wait…

But why?

Originally I intended not to write another post until brilliance struck her mighty fist, but then I thought otherwise. Isn’t that a bit like refusing to get back on the horse after being thrown off? Perhaps it’s an overused analogy, but there’s something behind every cliche. Truth. Sure, the fear of hollow words and mute meaning is ever-present, but is it not better to have some words, any words, than none at all? I think it is, least the ready wheels in my head begin to rust from neglect. Although this post may be nothing more than a circular and ironic conversation on the inability to formulate its very content, it is nonetheless. That’s worth something.

Really, a lack of insight can strike anyone, at any time, at any place. Writer’s block isn’t just for writers, despite the terminology. While it may seem best to sit on your laurels until creative obligation calls, I encourage you to write anyways. Dream anyways. Think anyways. Do anyways. Even in the driest days of drought, tend the fields of creativity. You may not get the harvest you’d hoped for, but if you’re lucky, one single seed of inspiration may take root.

Sometimes, that’s all it takes.