In Your Head

Dealing with the Thoughts that Keep You from Working

I’ve mostly been focused on the technical challenges of writing a sketch, but there are psychological hurdles to any kind of writing. And it can be hard to tell if the issues you’re facing are on the page or in your head. Today’s post addresses some of the most common mental blocks you may run up against. I don’t necessarily have solutions for all of them, and (it should go without saying) I’m not a trained medical professional, but sometimes it’s enough to know that thousands of other people at every professional level have faced these same problems. If you recognize yourself in this post, hopefully just seeing your problem in writing will give you a bit of comfort.

Ruts & Slumps

When you’re in a rut, you’re still able to get the work done… you just hate your work. I think everyone has periods like this. The first thing to do is recognize this is not a permanent state. When I first started seriously writing, every time I fell into a rut I thought to myself, “Well, this is it: you’re finally out of ideas. The well is dry forever. Pack it up and go home.” It wasn’t until maybe the fifth time I had this same thought that I went, “Hmmm, maybe the threat of Permanent Slump isn’t as present as I feared.”

But even after you’ve acknowledge you’re in a slump, you still have to get out of it. I think people fall into ruts when they’re burnt out. You might be more focused on getting the script done than actually enjoying the process of writing. Or you might feel like all your ideas are old because you keep returning to the same sources of inspiration. So get new inspiration. Go to a party, a museum, or a part of town you’ve never been to before. Watch a new TV show. Remind yourself there are other ways to write than the way you have been. Do writing experiments by putting unusual creative restraints on yourself. Look for ways to shake up your everyday life and you might find that your writing naturally changes too.

Writer’s Block

The old classic. You want to write. You’re ready to write. But you don’t know what to write. I think writer’s block happens for two reasons.

The first is when you don’t totally understand your own idea. If you can’t verbalize your own game, or haven’t done enough brainstorming, you might not be able to write because you can’t see the patterns your game dictates. So take a moment to brainstorm.

If you find you’re blocked in the brainstorming phase, it could be that you’re simply afraid. It may not that you don’t know what to write — you know, but you’re nervous it won’t be good enough. This is a harder problem to solve. One thing that helps me when I feel like this is to intentionally write the stupidest idea I have. I give myself permission to be bad. This immediately takes the the pressure to be good off, because I’m not trying to be good. And wouldn’t you know it: sometimes that bad idea turns into something great.

If you’re blocked at the idea phase it could be that you’re putting too much pressure on yourself. It’s unlikely that you have no ideas; it’s more likely you have no ideas that you like. But you shouldn’t worry about this too much. I’ve found that terrible ideas can sometimes evolve into good ones, and even good ideas can be executed terribly. Don’t worry about coming up with the perfect idea, instead try to come up with one that you think you’d enjoy working on. If you’re still struggling, try this: come up with five ideas instead. I know that sounds harder, but if you need to come up with more than one idea, you won’t be so quick to reject the slightly imperfect ones. Then, when you review what you have, you may find you like more than you thought. At the very least it will be easy to see what the best idea is on your list of five.

First Line Problems

You have an outline, you know what you want to write, but you keep getting stuck at the opening. How much do you need to set up. Who is in the scene? What is in the scene? How is everyone arranged? The basic questions of creating a world can be paralyzing. If you feel this way, skip ahead and write the first beat of the sketch instead. You usually know the emotions and comedy of the first beat, so you can focus on that. This can give you the momentum to finish the sketch, and then you can write the opening last. It’s much easier to crack those first lines when you know the rest of the sketch is already done.

Hiding Your Work

You did it! You wrote a sketch, you rewrote it, then you, uh, rewrote it again. And again. And… hm, still rewriting it, huh? Maybe you should stop editing it and show it to someone? But the thought of that chills you. It might not be ready yet. Maybe it needs one more read through. Y’know, to finally be perfect.

If you find yourself delaying like this, it’s probably because you’re afraid of judgement. Maybe you need to rethink who you’re sharing your work with. Are they a close friend or a stranger? Does one seem better than the other? The best way to share is with another writer who is also sharing their work, that way you’re both on equal footing, both sharing your mess together, both equally embarrassed. If you can’t do that, just be clear with your reader what kind of notes you’re looking for.

If you’re past the editing phase and procrastinating posting the video somewhere, one thing you can do is schedule the video to go up a week or so in the future. This feels less immediately terrifying, and you might even forget when the post goes up on its own.

Obsessing Over the Comments

If you’re posting stuff online, it’s very easy to obsess over the comments. There’s nothing like the thrill of hundreds of people praising you. But there’s also nothing as devastating as casual cruelty from anonymous strangers. I always advise people not to read the comments. I don’t think anyone has ever taken this advice. I still think it’s right. You will never be able to please everyone, and a single negative comment can weigh a lot more than a thousand positive ones. Instead, set standards for yourself. Are you pleased with your work? Are your friends? Are your creative peers? If you’re happy with your work, and everyone you respect is happy with your work, why would you care about what anyone else thinks?

Bombing

You may not be making sketches for the internet. You might be performing them live. This means you don’t have to worry about comments at all! It also means that the audience’s opinion is immediate and unable to be ignored. This is great when a sketch is going well, but it’s a real bummer when a sketch bombs. How do you recover from a sketch that’s met with silence?

Don’t be too hard on yourself. Everyone’s going to fail at some point. A single bad sketch does not mean you’re doomed to bomb forever. And failure is instructive. I would suggest doing a post-mortem editing session. Ask yourself where the sketch went wrong. Was the audience with you at first? Maybe the problem is with a specific beat that turned them off, or perhaps your heightening is too predictable. Or perhaps the audience wasn’t on board from the very beginning. This could suggest there’s a problem with your core game. Or (less likely) that the audience was just cold and your perfect sketch wasn’t going to work no matter what. In any case, it’s helpful to discuss with other people to find the problem. Other actors or writers who work with you, and friends in the audience can all offer different insights and suggestions. I personally found this sort of clinical assessment comforting. It meant that there was a specific problem with a specific sketch that could be fixed.