It’s been 11 months since I last posted on Substack.
Across that time, I’ve started, stopped, and archived ~20 draft posts, renamed this publication, launched two new publications, deleted two of those, joined my school paper, blanked and been unable to curate any meaningful piece, started a football blog, published six articles across its first 10 days then plateaued since, and deferred publishing one investigative report I completed 9 months ago.
You could say I’ve been on the receiving end of vicious writer’s block.
At least, that’s what I told myself.
“It’s just writer’s block.”
“Writers go through this all the time.”
I know the term. You know the term. Everyone knows it exists. It’s a normal phenomenon. Why unravel my soul’s knots for a phenomenon as universal as this?
This decision not to probe deeper, to accept and resign myself to the term, writer’s block, marked the start of my rut.
A drawback of encountering complex yet popular phrases is that it might rob us of the introspection that led the coiners there.
Hence, I am publishing this piece to:
Ease myself out of this 343-day writing slump,
To (attempt to) explain why it will work,
Suggest how we might resolve similar situations in the future
Before we proceed, allow me to take you back the last piece I published here:
Writing ‘A Catharsis…’?
Location: Nairobi, Kenya
Setting: Sank in the couch of my AirBnB
Music: Asake’s Mr. Money with the Vibe on loop
Timeframe: Written and edited across two days
Intensity: Two 14-hour sprints across 23rd and 24th of March ’23
Food: Armed with plantain chips and chin-chin
Preconditions: Putting the final blots on that story
Outcome:
or so I thought…
What then did I figure out?
Writing is revealing. Publishing is therapeutic.
Talking or complaining about insufficiencies wasn’t enough (is it ever?). Tweeting about them was too micro-dosed to offer a lasting relief.
I solved problems better (for myself and for those who depended on me) when I poured them out unto that blank sheet. This is not a unique discovery either, many writers (I don’t have a note of them) have written that writing out problems is a great filter.
We all have a Language to X.
During one of my nature writing class last semester, I spooled out my iPad and wrote this:
26.10.23
Today, I am thinking about small deeds that scale. One is language. Language is a tool, a way of thinking, a means of piecing the world together. Here, I engage with language as a means of interrogation, not just a specific language.
When we acquire languages, we broaden our horizon and create fresh channels and connections in our understanding of life, and reduce friction. The friction here is access. Identifying our language to X improves our response time whenever X arises.
The bits in parentheses were my responses.
We can have a language to think (essay writing)
We can have a language to argue or build an argument or build a grand project (reverse-engineering and iteration)
Language to write (English)
Language to decompose complex ideas (bullet points // algorithms) - see, this was written in bullet points!
Language to learn (projects/problem-sets/practice)
Language to concentrate (focused free write) - this previously read “language to avoid distractions (sprint write),” but I edited it for a more positive connotation.
Language to love (actions)
Language to execute or deliver
Sometimes, an idea seems so convoluted when you think about it. You write it down, allow it to marinate, and it’s embarrassing how simple or actionable it seems. This is the case as I re-read and annotate this section. It’s a good sign though, is it not?
What did we just read?
Well, we’re often told to ‘find’ what works for us.
You are struggling through classes. Teacher: Find a study plan that works for you.
You read most s*lf-h*lp books. Author: Here’s what worked for me; try it or find what works for you.
You’re learning to wield a construction tool. Expert: Find the handling technique that works for you.
I prefer the word identify.
The often casual use of ‘find’ suggests leaving things to chance and time, whereas identify implies a more deliberate, intentional effort:
search for it,
tab it,
try it,
assess it,
modify it,
hone it.
So, what’s my language to get through writer’s block? I now know it to be … writing about writer’s block.
As a reward for getting this far, here’s a blank, non-exhaustive 'Language to X' template.
Your language to think
Your language to build an argument
Your language to argue
Your language to build a grand project
Your language to write
Your language to decompose complex ideas
Your language to learn
Your language to concentrate
Your language to love
Your language to execute or deliver (a target)
Your language to be kind to yourself
I’d love to hear your thoughts, suggestions, and questions on this piece! Do write back.
Your language to be kind to yourself! I am thinking about it a lot these days. The language to stop self-coercion and drop the metaphorical gun but at the same time the language to self-introspect and get insights.
Also language for love as action is beautiful