The longest period of writers block that I ever experienced was around 5 years.
It was the late-90s, and coincided with a career switch that had me learning and growing fast. There were other factors, which I talk about in the latest book; for this article, though, the only important thing to note was that I just didn’t write from about 1995-2000.
The story on which I was blocked was Do Sparrows Eat Butterflies?, which ultimately became my first published novel.
Today, I want to cover what happened during that block, and what it helped me learn about writing and being a writer.
First, let’s talk about the story. Or, more importantly, the story before…
My third full, complete novel is called Jumbo. I wrote it in 93/94
(I think – it’s all on paper and floppy disks(!), so I can’t rely on file stamps)
it’s an OK book – definitely in the metaphysical realm – kind of meandering, as all my early writing was
(driven by a nagging fear of word count, I now see)
and unlikely ever to be shared, let alone published.
There’s a point in Jumbo where the protagonist, Georgie, desperate to escape London, ends up on a platform at Waterloo station, running to board his escape train only to be turned back by a tramp
(a recurring character in the novel)
Now, in the final version of the story, Georgie turned back to face what he needed to face in London.
In my head though, he had been meant to leave London, and spend time in a counter-cultural pseudo-cult. Here, he would gain wisdom/tools with which to be better able to answer the call of destiny
(yeah, I thought in those kind of terms back then)
only the real reason he turned back was because of me.
I remember making the decision, as I was writing – thinking, “that’s not Georgie’s story, it’s someone else…”
So I wrote the turnaround – and it’s actually one of my favorite scenes in Jumbo
(because, I think, I invested the tramp with such power and it pivots the whole novel towards its culmination)
I’m not going to say much more about Jumbo; I’ve shared enough. But I will quote Georgie at the peak of his journey:
Love more, hate less”
it’s still the best advice I’ve ever heard.
So, to the “escape” story.
In my head, that thread connected with the folk tale of Rip Van Winkle who, drunk, falls asleep for 20 years with some fairies in the woods, and wakes up to a radically changed world.
I started writing – and got to around 60 pages – the point where once again, the protagonist is leaving the “real” world for the “other” place
(Sense a pattern? I do. And I note that one of my current works in progress, Rufus, is paused/blocked at that point right now)
This time, though, I couldn’t make Ray turn around, this time I had to go with him.
So I didn’t.
I just stopped writing.
I told myself all manner of excuses, reasons. I wrote short stories, started other novel concepts. I read, re-read and re-read Sparrows umpteen times. I just didn’t write it.
My main self-talk was that I didn’t feel ready to write the story; that I hadn’t lived enough
(I wrote my first novel aged 21 and, once again, my nagging fear of “real writer” ate at me – all the novelists I saw were old people!)
as it turned out, that was actually closer to the truth than I thought it would be…
By November, 2000, though, it just felt like time, and I began to work on Sparrows again.
A little over a month later, a motorbike crash saw me hospitalized for a long weekend
(bikers… wear your protective gear; mine saved my life)
Once I returned home, I wrote the majority of Do Sparrows Eat Butterflies? in around 3 weeks while convalescing.
As a result, the book has a self-reflective, dream-like cadence – and I hear from many readers that they experience reading it in much the way I experienced writing it; it’s a compulsive tale
(1st person, present-tense – one of my favorite ways to write)
So, what did I learn from those 5 years circling the drain?
First, circling isn’t the same as going down the drain – those years weren’t wasted and, even though I wasn’t putting pen to paper, I was writing all the time. Or, more accurately, my subconscious was – because, when I did start, all of Ray’s traumatic journey was there for the writing, including the most grotesque, traumatic scenes
(though that didn’t make writing them any easier)
Second, during that writer’s block, I really did question whether I was a writer at all. Somewhere in my head
(driven from insecurity for sure)
I had always heard my voice capitalizing the word
I am a Writer
and in the late-90s I really wondered whether I’d always been just a liar.
Thankfully, I’m not – but over the course of the block, my language frame and mindset shifted without my even realizing it. I didn’t call myself a writer any more, capitalized or otherwise, I simply said:
I write…
which felt a whole lot more realistic. I am many things, and I write in a lot of them.
More recently, I’ve consciously shifted that mindset further from “I am a Writer”, through “I write…” to, now:
I am writing
And, yes, I do mean the double interpretation: 1) I am writing as the action; and 2) I am writing as the identity. That reframe has taken me from the land of blocks and no writing to just writing all the time
(it’s what led to this article on this particular page in this particular moment)
The final learning, no matter how tough it is to accept, is that the writing will be ready when the writing is ready; the time will be right when the time is right. No amount of forcing yourself to the page will unblock the story that wants to remain blocked.
Sparrows emerged in a month. Family Rules, close to 2 years – as was Karaoke Criminals. Escalation around 6 months. The Way Through The Mountains, 28 days.
So, say it with me: “I am writing”, because when I am writing, things get written!
Vince Tuckwood is a coach, writer, and catalyst who helps people get unstuck and moving again. With years in corporate leadership and creative background spanning writing and music, he knows how easy it is to end up trapped in roles, systems, and stories that no longer work. Vince brings real-world experience and a direct, honest approach to every conversation. He partners with people ready to see what’s really going on, and choose what comes next – on their own terms.
