Conquering the Blank Page: A Gentle Guide to Overcoming Writer’s Block
“Some days, the page feels like a void. And all I can do is whisper into it, hoping the words remember how to return.”
Hello, my fellow wanderers of words. If you’ve ever stared at your screen until the cursor felt like it was mocking you…if your mind’s been louder with doubt than with dialogue…if you’ve ever thought, Maybe I’m not a writer anymore—first, take a deep breath.
You’re not alone.
Writer’s block is not a death sentence.
It’s not even an enemy.
Sometimes, it’s a message. A pause. A sacred kind of stillness asking you to listen.
Let’s explore what causes it, how to soften its edges, and—most importantly—how to write through it, one imperfect word at a time.
The Writer’s Nemesis: That Ghost Called BlockWriter’s block isn’t always a dramatic slam of the brakes. Sometimes, it’s a slow fade. A day turns into three. A week into silence. You want to write, but the words? They just…won’t.
At its core, writer’s block is a temporary freeze in creativity, a fog between you and your story. But here’s the secret:
Writer’s block is NOT failure. It’s friction.
And friction means you’re still trying to move forward.
Whether you’re knee-deep in your manuscript (hi, From the Ashes 
) or staring down a blinking cursor with a cup of cold coffee, know this: there are ways through. Let’s begin with why this block shows up in the first place.
Perfectionism. You want it to be good, or maybe even brilliant, right out of the gate. And when it isn’t? That pressure can freeze you.
Burnout. Especially for writers juggling other lives—caregiving, working, simply surviving (all three of which have wrapped themselves around me)—creative energy can drain fast.
Uncertainty. When you’re unsure where your story’s going, it’s like trying to drive without headlights. It’s easy to freeze.
Distractions. Between the noise of the world and your own thoughts, the page often loses the battle for your attention.
Comparison. Scrolling past other writers’ “5000 words today!” posts? Yeah. Been there. And it stings.
Mindset Shifts: Rewriting the Inner Dialogue1. Embrace the “Terrible First Draft.”
Let it be a mess. Let it be weird. Let it bleed. The first draft isn’t for the world—it’s for you. And it doesn’t have to be beautiful. It just has to be done.
2. Lower the Stakes.
This isn’t the final form. This is the chrysalis. Let it be goo.
3. Celebrate Tiny Wins.
One sentence is still a victory. One idea is still movement. Honor the smallest flickers. They’re still fire.
Freewrite.
Set a timer for 5 minutes. No stopping. No backspacing. Let it be stream-of-consciousness. You may surprise yourself.
Mind Map or Outline.
Doodle. Scribble. Connect. Sometimes the visual chaos brings hidden order.
Change Your Setting.
Write at a coffee shop, in your car, on the porch in the witching hour. Even rearranging your desk can breathe new air into your process.
Step Away.
Rest isn’t laziness—it’s composting. Watch a horror movie. Take a walk. Let your subconscious stitch things together while you breathe.
Input Is Sacred.
Read a book. Listen to music. Look at unsettling art. Creativity needs fuel, not just output.
Set Micro-Goals.
Not “write a chapter.” Try “write one line of dialogue.” No pressure. Just presence.
Find Accountability.
Even just texting a writing friend, “I wrote 100 words today,” can shift your whole energy.
When I was knee-deep in From the Ashes—lost in rewrites, haunted by burnout, distracted by everything from social media to people to self-doubt—I leaned into these exact tools:
I wrote out of order. Some of my best scenes came from just writing what I wanted to write first.I reread my old notes and character blurbs and remembered why I loved my story.I journaled in my characters’ voices. Gave them the pen. Let them talk back.I read other Gothic stories, not to mimic, but to reignite. I let the aesthetic wash over me.I gave myself space. Space is often underestimated and I cannot stress how important space is. No punishment. Just patience.And when I returned to the page, it felt like coming home.
Final Thoughts: The Flow Is Always ThereWriter’s block is frustrating, yes. But it’s also human. It’s a sign you care. That you’re reaching for something that matters.
So be kind to yourself. Be soft. Be curious.
You are not a machine. You’re a living, feeling storyteller.
And the stories?
They always come back.
Even if they take the long road home.
What helps you break through the fog? Have you found any rituals, tricks, or strange little habits that guide you back to your words?
Leave a comment—I’d love to hear your thoughts. And if you’re blocked right now? Try one strategy from this post. Just one 
