I just wait. I accept that I might not write anymore. I accept that life changes and that maybe it’s not the end of the world even if it feels like it. That was a thing going on about 15 years ago with me. I don’t really feel that way anymore, but when it was happening it was hard. It feels like it might never come again, and then you just accept it.

I feel like that’s my actual profession: to get stuck and then get unstuck. That’s what I actually spend most of my time doing. It happens mostly in fiction for me. But maybe that’s what we all are doing all the time. That might be what life is, I feel like, is taking something as far as you can and then being like, “I actually don’t know what to do next.” And then, having to figure out, “Okay. So how is that an opportunity?”

I don’t believe in it being a block. I just think that there are times where I’m not supposed to be working.

I talk to someone. Dialogue helps relax the mind and new ideas are planted as people talk to me. Sometimes one phone call is enough, other times meeting a friend at a café or a bar will do the trick. To take the focus out of ourselves for a while helps us find new creative ways. We shouldn’t be prisoners to the traps our brain creates. To read or to go out for a walk can also be rather helpful.