The blank page with its winking cursor can be a fearsome sight. Having the flimsiest kernel of an idea but no solid sense of how to bring it to life can trigger your fight or flight response. (Most often it’s flight, as you leave the screen and go and make the coffee you think you need to get you started…procrastination loves a blinking cursor…). We’re far from immune—here are our tips to beat the blank page.
“Blank blindness is real.”
—Mark
As someone who often gets stuck inside his own head, overcoming ‘blank blindness’ is a frequent reality for me. Head full of ideas. A page empty of prose. Staring at a blinking cursor.
It’s like being caught at the heart of a snowstorm, a complete white out with no landmarks or cues to steer by.
As a frustrated golfer, I liken it to having the ‘yips’ – a sudden and unexplained loss of ability to execute certain skills. You know the shot you want to play, you visualise it, you focus on your stance and set up, then you start your back swing—and nothing. You’re stuck! Frozen in the moment.
“Don’t wait for inspiration. Write yourself there.”
—Sharon
Frustrated golfer: is there any other kind? What I’ve learned over many years is that the trick is to start writing anyway. Don’t wait for inspiration. Don’t worry that you haven’t got it figured out. Write yourself there.
Forget about ‘good writing’—that’s subjective anyway—and start getting your ideas down however works best for you.
To trick myself into getting going I sometimes set a timer. A blank page can feel weighty, like hours of agonising and self doubt lie ahead. So I tell myself I only have to do it for ten minutes. Surely I can manage that?
It can even be productive to procrastinate—creatively.
“Create good conditions, block your escape routes.”
—Andy
Reading those words reassures me. The fight/flight response is one I definitely know well, and that recipe helps a lot. I always make myself good coffee <insert your own brew > before I start. Maybe tidy my workspace a bit too.
For contrast, I’m married to someone that can sit down at any desk or table no matter how cluttered, use their forearm like a windscreen wiper to open a space just big enough for a laptop, and immediately get engrossed.
That’s not me, and if I don’t declutter purposefully at the start, I’m definitely going to be doing it aimlessly when the words come hard. So right now I’m picturing a space not so messy as to provide a distraction, a steaming mug and—because the blank page can truly be terrifying—not just a fresh new Google Doc open on my desktop but some resources and inspirations too. What kinds?
“Ideas arrive in the order they choose.”
—Andy
A mindmap is a good place to rough out a narrative. You’re not trying to write full sentences (which can be a huge relief), it’s simple to connect linked ideas, quotes and any early headings that come into your head. Maybe best of all, you don’t have to start at the beginning and work to the end (as you would with rough drafts, say). You can start where you like, jump about as inspiration strikes, and re-order the whole thing at the end.
“Let AI nudge—not narrate.”
—Andy
GenAI can be another inspiration. Not to write long form—you’ll do it better, believe me—but to source viewpoints, TL;DRs, comparisons, statistics. Ask it even if you’re fluent on the issues and subjects you’re writing on. You might find an angle you hadn’t considered, or one of those goofy fuckups that AI still makes aplenty. All of that can be inspiration. If you had another knowledgeable human in the room you could ask them but chances are you don’t.
“Stick with the uncomfortableness.”
—Sharon
Interesting. If I’m working on a creative project I never start with AI. I need to know what I think, or work out what I think by writing myself there. Good writing is good thinking, and I don’t find AI useful if what I’m writing needs to be fully mine. I have a strong sense – maybe misguided – that I need to protect myself – or my creativity – from AI! But if it’s a new subject for me, I might use AI to help me get a handle on what’s out there already, and to help me understand the terrain. AI can ask you good questions that help you get to grips with a subject, and see it from different angles.
“Writing by hand opens your subconscious.”
—Sharon
I realise writing this that I’m very old school. I often start writing with a pen on paper. Or even better, a pencil. I once read that Margaret Atwood rates pencils above pens as you can write with them anywhere, and they never run out of ink. And if it’s good enough for one of my favourite writers, it’s good enough for me. Writing by hand helps you access your subconscious, and unlock your creativity. It requires that you use more of your motor skills, and a collection of links around your brain called the “reading circuit.” Writing by hand activates more parts of your brain than typing does.
Starting on paper also helps you focus. When you’re writing on screen you’re only a click away from the entire contents of the internet. Writing often happens in fits and starts, and if you can resist the temptation to jump onto emails or Instagram during the natural pauses, and just stick with the uncomfortableness of not knowing what to say next, you’ll stay in the zone and get going again more quickly.
“When I can’t type, I talk.”
—Andy
Yeah, nice. I typically don’t start out that way, but now I’m questioning why not. I keep a journal every evening to help with my mental wellbeing—and I write that by hand, albeit on an iPad. There is a bridge to something more instinctive there, and to a lean clarity too. In the past I’ve tried typing into journaling apps, and found it awkward and stale. I think I get too prosy, too wrapped up in the sentences to let real intuitions surface.
I think this could be a related point. There are definitely times—could be fatigue, could be fear, could be a low mood or a very high one—when the thought of sitting still, typing ordered thoughts or sentences is just too much. Assuming I can’t just walk away and leave it to another day—which I want to emphasise is otherwise a perfectly legitimate and underused strategy—I may open up a transcription app and just talk at it. In my head I’m a teacher. I’m a poet. Let’s be honest, sometimes I’m likely just mansplaining to this brilliant listener that never calls me out for being boring. Doesn’t matter. Then I take the transcript and edit myself. It’s a start—and that’s what matters.
“Everything’s easier once you’ve started.”
—Sharon
Sometimes I’ll use Google Voice to transfer my early handwritten ideas onto the blank page, and sometimes I’ll just pick out the most useful bits and begin with them. Having got into the flow with writing by hand, it can be a seamless process to copy those notes onto the blank document, and then to keep writing. Everything’s easier once you’ve started.
I’ve pulled together lots of useful creative writing prompts for the Writing Group I run with Sonja Nisson. Like:
I see you…
Here’s a list of things I enjoy…
Together we can…..
I remember….
It doesn’t have to be like this…..
But you can start with anything at all. Just pick up the nearest book to you and open it at random. Copy down the first sentence you see, and then just keep going.
“Go blank. Stop overthinking and start starting.”
—Mark
Let’s take it back to the golf course. This is what I’ve learned from golf that helps with my writing blinking cursor moments.
Breathe. Remember this isn’t your only shot at this.
Slow down. It’s not about speed, it’s about rhythm.
Speed up. Sometimes increasing the tempo can get you through the block.
Go blank. Stop overthinking and start starting.
Practise makes perfect.
And remember, if all else fails keep on swinging.
“Creativity has its own timeline”
—Andy
Swing, and you’re winning. I get that. Two more points from me. Firstly, I’ve just realised I’ve been writing in this document for an hour and ten minutes and haven’t looked up more than once or twice. I say that as a dedicated fan of short, timed writing bursts and breaks. How come? Time of day, that’s how. I’m often at my most creative late afternoon. Whereas just before lunch, I’m itching for a spreadsheet to jockey. So pick the moments in your day when you are most likely to succeed.
Secondly, I like to write collaboratively. In the best case, that means in realtime, keeping company with other writers. I have learned to like—maybe appreciate is a more honest word—being edited. It always makes for better work. Co-creation needs practice and trust, but it is unquestionably a joy.
“Take tangents. Pull at threads.”
—Mark
Last tip from me: think counter intuitively. Go off the beaten track. Don’t go where everyone else would go. Be unconventional. Take tangents. Pull at threads. If you’re looking for good ideas, start by thinking of stupid ones instead. Don’t swim in a sea of sameness or float on a current of conformity. Swim against the tide to find the blue ocean of opportunity.
The key to beating the blank page is to fill it with words. Embrace a messy first draft. “Write drunk. Edit sober,” or maybe more responsibly, “write without inhibition, edit with precision.”
But for now, your only job is to get started. Get writing!
What do you think?