How I Avoid Writing

And What I’m Doing About It, Sometimes

#writingcommunity #booksky #amwriting #writing Unfetterred Treacle

The Real Struggle

For me, the hardest part of writing isn’t the writing. It’s sitting down to do it. I can usually find twenty other things that suddenly feel urgent. Laundry, emails, the junk drawer I haven’t opened since the Obama administration. And once I do sit down, I’ll scroll Substack “for inspiration,” or watch Facebook reels until I forget what year it is. I’ve cut out video games (mostly,) but somehow, I still manage to lose two hours to nonsense that feels vaguely productive in the moment. And yet…this is the job. Butt in seat. That’s the whole deal.

Creative Avoidance Is a Superpower

I wish I had a glamorous excuse. Something dramatic, like a tortured creative spirit or a Victorian illness. But the truth is much dumber. The dishwasher needs to be emptied. I should check in on that thing I posted last night. Oh look, someone liked it. I have to reply to EVERYONE (but that’s also important to me.) Let’s go down that rabbit hole and pretend it’s networking. Oh, I haven’t read the paper yet. I have to print out the sudoku, and then complete it, duh.

I am a world-class creative avoider. A silver medalist in “just checking one thing.” A black belt in “I’ll write after I fold these towels.” If procrastination were an Olympic sport, I’d have a shelf of medals, assuming I ever got around to building the shelf.

The Internet Is a Trap (and You Know It)

The scary part is how easily the distractions masquerade as productivity. Reading Substack posts about writing feels like writing-adjacent activity. Same with industry articles, interviews with authors, or watching reels of someone else cleaning their kitchen while I think, “Ah yes, I too should clean my kitchen.” Suddenly it’s lunchtime. And I’ve written…nothing.

I used to lose hours to video games. Cutting those helped. But digital distractions mutate like viruses. Facebook reels stepped up to fill the void, and Substack, ironically, can be both muse and mirage.

Writing vs. Starting to Write

Here’s the weird part, I actually like writing (sometimes.) Once I’m in the chair, fingers on keys, document open, those first few words typed, I’m fine. It’s not always brilliant, but I never regret the time spent. It’s one of the few activities that I don’t feel like I should be doing something more useful. The other is spending time with friends or family.

The hardest part isn’t writing. It’s starting. Getting past all the other things that the internet has to offer, especially my new addiction (Substack,) is the hardest part.

There’s this narrow little canyon between intending to write and actually writing. And that ten-minute window between opening the doc and typing the first real word? That’s where hope goes to die. That’s where snacks are fetched, browsers are opened, and self-doubt throws a party.

I am getting a little better with self-doubt, but I’ve also been doing this for 17 years now. Wish I had more to show for that, but here we are (see procrastination mentioned earlier.)

What Helps (Sometimes)

I’ve tried different strategies. No fancy systems. No bullet journals. Just low-resistance tactics:

Opening my doc before I check email.I used a word counter calendar (for about 3 months, until I needed to edit instead of write.) That actually worked for my brain. I need to go back to using it.Setting a short word goal.Getting a limited few of the Prominent Procrastination Things (I really tried to find a P word for ‘Things’ but alas) done beforehand.

Sometimes they work. Sometimes they don’t. But when they do, it’s like tricking my brain into remembering I like this job.

The Ongoing Battle

There’s no silver bullet. No productivity hack that solves this forever. Just the choice to try again today. And tomorrow. And the day after that. One of my favorite sayings is, We All Make Choices.

Most days I win, even if it’s barely qualifying. Some days I lose to distraction. But I try to be kind to myself about it, because shame is just another form of resistance. What matters is showing up again, imperfectly and honestly.

So, if you’re also struggling to sit down and write, you’re not broken. You’re not lazy. You’re just human.

Put your butt in the seat. That’s the work. I’ll meet you there.