Breaking the curse of the blank page

I am staring at a blank page. A blinking cursor is waiting for me. Where should I begin? What should I write? I type a few words, but I don’t like their sound and delete them. I insert half a sentence, make it to the first conjunction, and start over again. I try to create another line and end up with a blank page once more.

This is what writing my PhD thesis was like. Chapter after chapter. Section after section. Each time, I felt like I had to start from scratch. Writing was such a struggle. Today, the words flow out of my fingers almost effortlessly. I have more ideas for blogs than time to write them. It is a joy to express myself through writing. How could it have been such a struggle once?

Did I have writer’s block while working on my PhD thesis? Since I had such difficulties creating new sections, it surely sounds like it. Writer’s block is more of a description than an explanation of my experience, however. Besides, I produced a 250-page thesis in addition to several articles. So, I wasn’t blocked all the time. What about the fact that I wrote all day back then, whereas I casually write whenever I have time and ideas now? The lack of variation certainly did not expedite my writing. Additionally, the pressure I put on myself to fill new pages was debilitating at times. With a lot of time on my hands, I steadily continued writing, though. Did I lack inspiration, then? Again, the amount of material I produced suggests the contrary.

Of course, these aspects may have contributed to my difficulties with writing. Yet, I believe the central issue lies elsewhere, and the way I organized my writing points to it. I knew I had to write thousands of lines of text. To not lose sight of the big picture, I kept the chapters of my thesis in separate files. However, even the chapters would have a substantial length. Therefore, I didn’t want them to be cluttered with ideas, comments, or outdated text. As a result, I entered a very restrictive writing mode. I wanted to write full sentences that fit perfectly with any existing text in one go. Ideally, they would even smoothly introduce the lines I had yet to write. You can guess how often a satisfactory sentence popped into my mind. Hence, I shot down most ideas I came up with.

I went through the same struggle with creating new content hundreds, if not thousands, of times. Yet, I didn’t even begin to see that perfectionism was blocking me. I just pressed on with only one goal in mind: finishing my thesis. During the final stages of my PhD, I started to realize that brainstorming requires space. I set up my thesis’s summaries in separate documents, where I collected ideas and considered variations of each line and paragraph. Still, I experienced a lot of pressure to create perfectly flowing text.

Eventually, I finished my PhD thesis. I was—and still am—very satisfied with the final result. Next to my thesis, I published a well-cited first-author article in a peer-reviewed scientific journal and contributed to several other publications. I also authored a handful of conference papers, several scientific preprints, and a popular science article. I do not regret writing any of them. As time passed, I did begin to wonder: Could writing have been less of a struggle? Could I have produced more articles if I hadn’t spent so much time pursuing the perfect text?

A few years after obtaining my PhD, I was applying for a new job and again considered these questions. To renew my professional profile, I followed up on the idea that brainstorming requires space. Ensuingly, I dedicated different documents to my values, interests, competencies, goals, and personality. I also summarized my professional experience by looking at my past responsibilities, achievements, and skills. I took ample time and space before compiling a new CV and updating my online job profiles. However, in the end, I had so many brainstorming and selection files that I lost the overview. As I had written out all sentence alternatives I considered, the documents had quickly grown in size as well. It became hard to make improvements while keeping all the material in sync. What originated as an idea to make writing more flexible turned rigid again.

Earlier this year, when I started setting up this blog, I found a new writing mode. I use one brainstorm file per blog. In that file, I record any idea I have. I refrain from reviewing or criticizing ideas as long as they keep coming. To prevent losing the overview, I no longer write out sentence alternatives. Instead, I focus on words and phrases. After some time, I mark the phrases I like best and have an automatic script assemble them into paragraphs. Then, I iteratively extend and improve the text until I am satisfied.

It works even better for me to begin with grocery-list-style brainstorming. I open the notes app on my phone and add a checklist. There, I jot down all ideas, without paying attention to grammar, punctuation, or the level of detail. Next, I transfer these ideas to my computer and continue the process there. Even with this method, writing continues to take time. Similarly, pressure or high expectations can still block me. I may not even produce more material than previously. But writing isn’t the struggle it used to be. On the contrary, expressing myself through writing has become a joy.

I have come to see creativity as a flow. Criticism and premature reviews interrupt and stifle it. They are like pruning a rose bud because it isn’t a beautiful flower yet. Like the bud, ideas need to grow. So, put down those words. Write half a sentence. Extend it, add alternatives, and iterate from there. This process will take time. But so does watering a rose.