Why Writer’s Block Is A Myth For Professional Copywriters And Marketers

“Writer’s block is…
… a self-induced delusional state of undisciplined focus.
It is merely not knowing what to do next.”
I am decidedly biased on this issue.
And I’m right.
I’ve never had single moment of writer’s block in my life.
I have struggled to write well at times, but that’s not the same thing at all. (And, later I’ll give you a couple of tactics to muscle your way past those moments of struggle.)
Now, I’ve lived in both worlds. Long career in non-fiction writing (as a copywriter, and author of best-selling business books) … and an equal period of time writing fiction. (I’ve penned 3 novels, and have towering stacks of short stories in storage.) (I’ve also written several hundred songs.)
And this straddling of professions has given me a very nuanced perspective of how people approach writing.
My last foray into fiction writing pretty much crushed my passion for getting a novel published. Ten years ago, I took a break from the business world and focused on fiction for a while.
I attended a couple of very prestigious week-long fiction workshops.
Two things happened at every workshop: First, as soon as folks learned that I was actually making money as a professional ad writer, I got swarmed.
I never met a writer — including the faculty — at any of these workshops who could support themselves with fiction. (The best gig they could find was getting hired to teach “writing” in academia.)
A few actually wrote best-selling books. Flurry of attention and fleeting fame, a couple of nice checks in the mail… and then back to starving.
I quickly realized that my fiction-writing was going to remain a sideline hobby, like playing music and cartooning.
Second: As an already-successful professional writer, I realized I was a complete outsider amongst the throng of wannabe novelists at these workshops.
And it wasn’t just the fact I was rolling in dough as a freelancer. (And was living off fat royalties while I dabbled in fiction during a year-long vacation.)
Nope.
The main reason I didn’t fit in with the other folks at the workshop…
… was my work ethic.
I was used to meeting deadlines. I took writing seriously, and I studied the essentials of getting my work done (so I could collect those fees that made clients faint).
This is important: The vast majority of wannabe novelists I met didn’t actually want to write.
They wanted to have already written a great novel… so they could enjoy what they thought was the confidence, respect and romantic life of a published author.
I remain stunned at this attitude.
Writers write. You earn respect — it isn’t bestowed upon you like an award for being a nice person.
And if there’s any “romance” to writing… it comes either before or after the actual task of sitting at your desk and working.
Don’t get me wrong. Being a pro copywriter is the best gig on the planet.
Well, next to being a rock star guitarist, I suppose.
But in both cases… you’re working your tail off. Yes, there are rewards. Yes, it’s a blast to carve out a niche among your peers as a wicked-good producer of the real stuff.
And yes, to outsiders it can look like a cushy, easy job.
Get past that illusion.
You build up your chops through experience and discipline. The professionals code is simple: “When there’s money on the line, you show up where you’re supposed to be, when you said you’d be there… having done what you said you’d do.”
For a copywriter, that means you meet your hard deadlines… with the best stuff you’re capable of producing. (Soft deadlines, which do not impact the client’s project, are different animals… as I’ve frequently discussed. You should always have multiple soft deadlines prior to every hard deadline. Hard means final… as in meeting printing deadlines, launch schedules, and any other deadline where — if it’s missed — disaster looms.) (This attitude, of never missing hard deadlines, still separates the rookies from the trusted pro’s in business.)
And you meet your critical deadlines every time.
Writer’s block?
Complete nonsense.
It’s just a matter of not having prepared yourself for the task.
Here’s a clue: The very first step is…
… research.
You learn everything you can about the market you’re writing to. Who the competition is, what they’re doing right and what they’re doing wrong, what’s new, what’s over and done with, where the opportunities are.
The second step: Get into the head of your prospect. Research the emotional, physiological, spiritual and psychological needs, wants and world-view of the folks you’re going to persuade.
So, when you’re finally ready to sit down and write… you know where you’re going, who you’re going after…
… and what you need to write to accomplish it all.
Somehow, people get the notion (even at fancy, expensive fiction workshops) that inspiration has something to do with writing.
So they sit down at the keyboard, stare at the blank monitor…
… and despair.
This is beyond dumb. It’s suicidal, if there’s money on the line.
It is exactly like flying to a strange city… agreeing to meet someone at a restaurant downtown… and then hopping in a car to drive there…
… without an address, or a GPS, or a map, or even advice on where you’re going.
You’ll freeze up at the first cross-street. Do you go left? Right? Straight?
You don’t know. You have no clue where you’re going.
Preparing to write something means you’ll never sit there staring at the blank screen.
Your research is your address, GPS, and map.
The tactics and tips you learn from guys like me are the advice on getting there.
Want some practical, professional advice right now?