Start with where you are.
Advice for writing when you feel overwhelmed by options
I’m sitting at the little leaning desk in our bedroom in Brooklyn. To my left, through the window, I see the wind pushing and pulling at the new leaves of an old tree. To my right, Fish sleeps in his bed on the floor; I can tell by his breathing that he’s on the verge of a dream, the kind that makes his paws twitch and his legs kick. I love when that happens.
Here, I take a sip of my second coffee, now lukewarm. I slowly turn inward. How does this feel? Should I keep going? The answer comes back clear: Yes. I crack my knuckles and continue.
Outside, I hear birds chirping. The sound of the B69 turning right at the light down the block. The occasional cheer from a crowd at the bar nearby. Closer, I hear my breath, my fingers tapping against the keyboard, my voice reading my words aloud as I type them. I check my other senses: smell (laundry detergent), taste (coffee), touch (the chair against my back, the laptop under the heels of my palms).
A voice in my head says, This is pointless. Another says, This is the way. A third asks, What are you trying to say?
I can think of a dozen writers, marketers, and social media experts who would argue I should have thought about this before I even started writing. Margo Aaron wrote just yesterday, “If you haven’t anything to say, the perfect words can’t save you. You’re dead on arrival.”
In general, I think it’s good advice. I try to follow it most days, especially in my copywriting work.
Today is not one of those days.
Today, I felt overwhelmed by the sheer number of things I want to say. Choosing just one idea to write about felt impossible. It’s not that I didn’t try; it’s just that the more I tried, the less I felt like any of them were worthwhile. I could feel myself clamming up. I knew that if I kept at it, perfectionism would win and I wouldn’t write anything.
That’s when I remembered a different piece of writing advice: Start with where you are, and the rest will follow.
I didn’t know where I was headed when I started describing the sights and sounds from my desk. I didn’t need to. I just needed to start—and trust that I’d find my way as I went. Maybe not to what I was trying to say, but to what I needed to hear.
Now I’m curious: What’s a piece of advice that helps you write when you feel overwhelmed by options?
Reply to this email or comment below to share your answer.