What To Do When the Words Won't Come

writing advice from Ask Lilly

Welcome back to Ask Lilly! In this writing-advice column installment, we’re covering how to get your writing unstuck, where to start when looking for magazines to submit to, and how to prioritize and get through decision paralysis when you’re almost done with a manuscript and starting to think about querying.

I’d love to hear some of your personal strategies for getting unstuck when the ideas aren’t coming.

I was just talking about exactly this with a student—how sometimes when the words aren’t flowing, trying to force them will only make you feel worse. More depleted, more frustrated, more creatively blocked. How sometimes, the best thing you can do for your writing is to take a break and walk away.

We writers focus so much on output, it’s easy to forget sometimes that if we want to keep coming back to the well, we occasionally have to give it a chance to refill. (

Jeanna Kadlec

a writes about this often and beautifully at Astrology for Writers.)

When I’m feeling stuck—when I either don’t have any new ideas, or I can’t seem to get the words out even if I know exactly what I want to write—I take a very intentional break to focus on creative input, rather than output. That usually means a lot of reading, rerouting my usual writing days into long days of catching up on my TBR pile (with my phone in the other room). It means going to museums (the impetus for my Museum Pages series was exactly this, thinking about what fills the creative well). Going to see a play or a ballet or whatever else might make me feel creatively nourished.

It also means tending to my physical and social wellbeing—spending time with friends, catching up on sleep, cooking delicious meals, getting a massage or going to a yoga class or working out. When I’m feeling tapped out creatively, it’s usually a sign of larger burnout—it usually means I’ve been pushing myself too hard for too long without taking breaks to take care of myself as a human animal.

Sometimes doing this on a small scale works. I can usually tell the difference pretty quickly at this point between a difficult writing day and a pointless one—of course sometimes we have to push through some initial muck to get to a flow, but sometimes no amount of pushing will get us anywhere. When I get the feeling that I’m in the latter situation, I call it then and there, with no guilt. I go to the gym or curl up with a book or do any of the things I listed above that make me feel like effort is flowing inward, rather than outward. And I hope the next writing day goes better.

But sometimes, if the block is more than an off day, which is what I think this question is referring to, it takes a more substantial reset to get back on track. If you’re in a more sustained creative slump, you may need a more sustained creative reset. A month is a good amount of time, I think. Maybe even a season.

For me at least, just taking the pressure off, saying “I’m not going to write anything this month,” makes a noticeable difference. I pile a big stack of books I’ve been meaning to read next to my bed, I look up current exhibits at my favorite museums, I text friends I haven’t seen in a while. I spend a few weeks or longer just being a person in the world, not expecting myself to produce anything. And by the end of whatever time period I’ve set for myself to focus on refilling the well, I’m usually brimming with ideas and eager to get back to the page.

I know if you’re feeling anxious about not writing, deciding to not write for even longer can sound like the exact opposite of what you want to do. But I think of it this way: If the words aren’t going to come either way, would I rather sit at my computer and stress about it, or would I rather walk away and do something else? Forcing it doesn’t work. Take a break!

I am so torn between final (hopefully final) revisions to my book, sending out agent queries, and submitting small sections of my book as essays and stories to get some traction for my work. The conflicting desires have shut me down from getting any (or all) accomplished. I know I’m so close, yet still…. I’m starting to panic that this project might never be done, or even if done, might never see the world. Any suggestions for moving through this paralysis?

It makes total sense to me that you’re freezing up at this stage! Decision paralysis is real, but I think the bigger culprit is the fear at play as you prepare to embark on the difficult process of trying to publish a book. It takes so damn long to write a book (especially a first book). And the whole time, you want so badly to be done, to see the book published and out in the world. But when you want something for long enough, the wanting itself becomes a kind of comfort. Wanting means it’s still possible for everything to go exactly as you dream it will. Wanting means the best is still ahead. Getting out there and trying to make it happen means smashing that want up against the frustrations of reality. The inevitability of rejection, the endless possible disappointments.

So my practical suggestion for what to do next is to finish the manuscript. You’ve gotten this far—see it through, finish these revisions. Then switch your attention to what’s next. But the advice underneath that advice is to acknowledge that you’re getting ready to take a big plunge, and there’s bound to be some fear and anxiety in that. So let yourself feel the nerves, but also get ready to release your grasp on the book; to move past this stage where it’s been just you and the manuscript for however long you’ve been working on it. Finishing the revisions and setting the manuscript aside will free you up for what’s next—not just mentally and logistically, but emotionally too.

Also, for what it’s worth, when you do turn your attention toward publishing short pieces to try to catch an agent’s eye, I recommend original essays, rather than direct excerpts from the manuscript. Maybe related material—chapters you cut, stories or topics that you couldn’t figure out how to incorporate into the book. Or just anything that’s representative of your voice and sensibility. My agent found me through a column I wrote for Catapult (RIP) about female villains in pop culture, and we signed to work together on First Love—a project not at all related to that column, except that both blended personal narrative and cultural criticism with a feminist sensibility. Agents are looking for authors to represent, not just individual projects, so the work you put out to build your platform and potentially catch their eye doesn’t have to be directly tied to the book you’re trying to sell.

It might be a good strategic move to publish one direct excerpt from the manuscript if you can place it somewhere really splashy, but don’t cannibalize too much of your book. Save your best excerpts for promotional placement when the book comes out, and remember that even after those promo excerpts, you want to leave plenty to be available only in the book itself.

Can you suggest any strategies for someone like me who is just getting started thinking about publishing essays with a plan to work up to a chapbook, then a short memoir? I’ve subscribed to SubClub but just get overwhelmed and talk myself out of submitting every time I look at the lists.

Well, first I want to point out that a chapbook is not really a standard step on this path for nonfiction, in the way it might be for poetry. Nonfiction chapbooks do exist, and they can be great! But if you’re thinking of a chapbook as a requisite step in between individual essays and a book, you can release yourself from that requirement, because it isn’t one.

It is good practice to publish standalone essays before trying to sell a book though! And for that, yes I can suggest a strategy. Looking at any of the big lists or databases of places to submit is super overwhelming, and you’re definitely not alone in shutting down because of that. I recommend, rather than considering every possible outlet in existence each time you’re ready to submit a piece, building a short, curated list of goal publications specific to you and your work.

This takes some time, but it pays off in the long run, I promise.

Start with the publications you read. Where do you like to read essays? Are there any magazines you subscribe to and/or follow on social media because they consistently publish work you like? Put them on your list.

Next, look to writers you admire. Which authors working today do you feel your work is most aligned with? Go to their websites, and see where they’ve published stand-alone pieces. If you’re just starting out, it can be useful to scroll down and see where these authors were publishing three or five years ago—maybe before they had a book out, if their websites include an archive that goes back that far. (So, not where are they publishing now that they’re published and established, but which paths did they take to get where they are now?) Add those publications to your list. (Just double check to make sure they still exist, since sadly we’ve lost a lot of great magazines in recent years.)

How about your peers, your writer friends—which magazines or journals are they publishing in? Add those to your list!

Once you have five to ten-ish publications on your list, spend some time really getting to know them. Subscribe to them in print and/or online. Follow them (and their editors) on social media. Sign up for their newsletters. Make it a point to read what they’re putting out. Not every single piece from every single publication on your list necessarily, but, since you’re an essayist, check in on the new essays each publication has put out on a weekly or monthly basis, or whatever feels sustainable. Familiarize yourself in a real way—in a way that you can’t possibly do with every single publication in those big databases.

Getting to know the style and taste of ten-ish publications will give you a much clearer sense of what and where to submit than scrolling through the endless online lists of magazines you’ve never heard of. And you can add to this list over time—ideally you’ll discover new writers through your deep engagement with a few publications, and those writers will lead you to new magazines, and those magazines to new writers, etc. etc. And before you know it, you’ll have a deep knowledge of the little corner of the literary world where your work fits best.

Ask Lilly is a writing-advice column, featuring questions from paid subscribers. To submit a question for the next installment, upgrade your subscription today!