A friend of ours (I’ll call her Pat) published a book a few years back, encouraged and assisted by many people, including my husband and me, who run a small local press as a hobby. The plot and characters had been rattling through her head for years. She’d even completed a first draft, which was not very polished, to say the least. Its genre is what I would call “history-mystery”. As an archaeology and history buff, Pat used historical information from 19th century New Mexico as the backdrop for her book.

Eventually, thanks to the input of her friends, Pat was able to revise the manuscript to the point that we judged it ready for publication. It turned out to be quite the success. She showed up at a lot of bookstores and other venues to promote it and arranged to get it reviewed in the local paper. She sold a lot of copies and recouped her investment. It was eventually picked up by UNM (University of New Mexico) Press as the first fiction book they published in their history. She also won a New Mexico writer’s award. Life was sweet.

How do you follow an act like that? Well, that’s the problem. Pat’s been trying to write a second book using many of the same characters, but she just can’t get it to the same level of quality as her first. So she’s gone back to the drawing board, even acquiring a secondhand computer without Internet access so she won’t be constantly distracted by checking her e-mail or googling while she’s working.

As a senior, Pat feels the pressure of the passing years. She doesn’t have the luxury of telling herself that she has all the time in the world to get it right. In sports, what she’s going through would be called choking. As a writer, she’s blocked.

Nobody wants to be a one-trick pony. Part of the problem is that Pat’s already come out with a winner and so readers expect a lot from her, and she knows it. She liked being liked as a writer, and she doesn’t want to risk not being liked. Even if she eventually creates an acceptable sequel, what if it turns out to be not as popular as the first? How does she overcome her fear of failure and disappointing her fans?

Writer’s block is like self-inflicted voodoo. If you stick enough pins of pessimism into your brain, metaphorically speaking, you will come to believe that you won’t make it. How does a writer triumph over self-doubt?

There is no single answer. You can spit up what you’re choking on and stash it to swallow later, i.e., put the manuscript aside for a few months and come back to it. Often, re-reading it after time has elapsed will allow you to recognize the elements that don’t come together much more clearly. Alternatively, you can doggedly continue to work on it, hoping for a break-through. You can change genres. Try writing something that has no relationship to the work you’re stuck on. If you’re writing a novel, try your hand at an op-ed piece. If you’re struggling with a fact-filled Xombyte, drop it and compose a poem. Or write the ending chapter, or paragraph, or line, of the work you’re grappling with.

One method I use to get my mind in gear is to title a piece before I start it to focus my mind on what I want to write about. I also come up with a first line that I usually stick with. If I change it, it’s after I’ve completed the rest of the piece.

It’s safe to say that all writers start writing because it’s fun. We amuse ourselves with our own writing long before we allow anyone else to enjoy it. If we are to succeed as writers in the public domain we need to hang on to the joy of creating. We must be fearless and truthful and learn to avoid wallowing in the self-defeating vanity that can taint success. Writer’s block is just a mind trip. So jump off the train and write.