Luciano Duarte | Literature and philosophy

How to Deal with Creative Blocks?

Easy question and prompt answer. How to deal with creative blocks? Giving it due importance: none.

I even understand the terror of some writers with the white screen, the vacuum of ideas, such “creative blocks”. But I see this as an extremely fragile problem, likely to be broken with three beats on the keyboard.

What is so-called “creative blocks” is usually the set of psychological excuses that a writer repeats to himself for not writing.

As long as it is possible to begin a novel with “Once upon a time…”, a tale with “It was a sunny morning…”, an essay with “The object of this study…” or a dialogue with “How are you?”, creative block will never be a relevant problem.

But what happens, and the little practice has always supported me, is that the fingers activate the brain, and if they dare to type something like “Once upon a time…”, automatically the brain, irascible and relentless, will make immediate correction, so that even before the fingers finish their youthful intent, the phrase will already be properly reconstructed.

The brain is lord and stubborn broker of the fingers, but needs their stimulus to put itself to work. So, if a sunny day dawns, just for that, the brain will begin to paint it as it should be, and then the fingers, very agitated and hasty slaves, will have to review the work done badly or continue if it is good, which they will do with great pleasure, since they are made to hard work. In short: it all comes down to a matter of starting the movement.

Therefore, understanding “creative block” as a problem of the fingers, taking note that, when sitting down, he will immediately put himself to write, regardless of the emotional state, environment or motivation of the day, the writer can thus keep his spirits up for the terrible work that awaits him in the review, which will require everything possible to extract from his brain, tormenting him with the unattainable form, the failure in the rhythm of the text, the bad chaining of paragraphs, the word that escapes or does not express to him precisely… not to mention, of course, the extremely bitter feeling that will immediately sprout in his chest as soon as the brain begins to bring to life the lines written in a state of emotion.

This “creative block” is a problem that arouses laughter when the writer stakes goosebumps in front of a poorly written text, full of errors, long-winded, tedious, inexpressive, knowing that exactly this text took him tens of hours and constitutes, in short, the work of his life.

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Psychological Novels

Proverbial are the criticisms of the so-called “psychological novels,” i.e., novels in which the author explores the mind and psychological motivations of his characters and focuses the narrative on the progression of facts and actions.

Some say that authors of this style of novel lack a kind of artistic vein, which supposedly would oblige them to paint each landscape, each environment with as much detail as possible. This is an interesting point.

However, I see the reader much more interested in the arc of action, in the psychological dramas of characters that cause him some empathy or revulsion, than in knowing, for example, about the objects left on a wooden table with signs of mold.

We could continue here in extensive, controversial and useless discussions, and the reader would eventually oppose my words to the beautiful descriptions made by great artists, as often found in Tolstoy, Turgenev, Chekhov, Eça de Queiroz and many others. Does not matter.

What I mean is what I see operating in the reader’s head when in contact with any of these so-called “psychological novels”.

If, on the one hand, it is possible to point out a lack of descriptions of these novels, on the other we can say that the thread of the narrative never loosens, never breaks and that the reader, absorbed and concentrated, begins to play an active role in the story.

What do I mean by that? Let us think, for example, of the physical descriptions of the characters.

There are narratives where the author grants us only one or two characteristic traits of the character and then describes to him thoroughly the psychological.

What are we going to do? Through the psychological characteristics of this character, we began to draw him physically based on our own experience. Does the character have a vast mustache? Great: what evokes in us a vast mustache?

More: the author traces the psychological of a scoundrel. How is physically the biggest scoundrel we have ever met? Well, psychologists, do the proper research and you will confirm what I will say: the scoundrel, if not described in detail, will be drawn in detail by the reader, or even: the reader, perhaps, does not need too much information.

And I conclude with the reflection: what story will seem more real, more intense and thought-provoking to the reader: one which he completes and participates actively, drawing characters similar to his own universe, or one which the author…

There is no need to complete the question. It is up to the artist, however, to plan and intelligently distribute his triggers, using them, evidently, with due caution.

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The Real Artist

Weeks, perhaps years of meditation, hard work, seclusion and intense psychological effort to give birth to a work that will do nothing more than expose all his fragility and imperfection: this is the reality of the true artist. Deals with minimal financial return and almost always judges unrewarded the efforts. Furthermore, sees the criticism, in success or failure, marking its mandatory presence. How to explain? Who would work facing such luck? Publishing a work is no less than total exposure. And if we conclude this way, it will be necessary to add that the true artist, who strives to record his impressions and feelings in artistic work, whatever it may be, may lack the other qualities, but not this: courage.

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Literary Critics

It is very, very difficult for a literary critic not to become a defamatory. And this is easy to understand: the critic sees himself, most of the time, in front of something he would like, but cannot produce, either for lack of courage or talent. Thus, with daily food, envy only tends to grow. This is a natural thing from the smallest to the big ones. Let us look at an emblematic example: the enormous Vladimir Nabokov. Even he, intellectual of very first order, did not escape the ambush, being able to deliver us an absolutely brilliant analysis of Anna Karenina in volume attached to despicable and envious pages about Dostoevsky’s work. Notice that we speak of critics: even these, those who seek to analyze and sincerely judge the artistic aspects of a work, are subject to such ungrateful luck. There is still a worse, significantly worse sect: the dogmatic sect. But these, excuse me for the rudeness, deserve nothing but total contempt.

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