Sitemap

You’re Not Lazy. This Is Why You Have Writer’s Block

6 min readMay 27, 2025

--

Blonde woman sitting at kitchen table struggling with writer’s block
Image created in Midjourney and Canva

You’ve been saying you want to write a book. But somehow, organising your sock drawer is more emotionally fulfilling. You’ve mopped your office floor. Reorganized your pens by colour and emotional resonance. And let’s not forget the three-hour scroll through “how to be productive” videos on YouTube. (Irony? We don’t know her.)

You’re not lazy.

You’re just stuck. Like a bookmark in a novel you swore you’d finish last summer. You’ve got big dreams. Big ideas. Maybe even an imaginary book tour outfit picked out. But every time you sit down to write, it’s like your brain packs a suitcase and heads for the airport.

Why?

Because writing isn’t just hitting your laptop keyboard or scribbling down words. Writing is putting yourself out there. It’s about opening emotional wounds. It’s using real life experiences and forcing yourself into the shoes of your characters, however desperate or scary they are.

And let’s be real — sometimes, it’s easier to alphabetize your book shelf than to decide whether your protagonist should kiss the guy or kill him. So you want to write your book, but your ideas scatter like plot bunnies the second you sit down. Soon, just the thoughts of writing fill you with dread. You label yourself as lazy.

“I must not want it enough.”

“I’m just not motivated.”

“Other writers write two thousand words before breakfast. Maybe I’m just not cut out for this.”

Lies.

All lies.

We have a new writing channel! Watch the video of the blog post here.

Here’s The Truth:

You’re not lazy.

You’re overwhelmed.

You’re scared.

You’re blocked.

And your brain, like your Netflix feed, is just trying to keep you safe and comfortable and numbly entertained. The average person spends two hours a day on social media. Exchanging even twenty minutes of that time towards doing something productive (like writing) could literally change your life. But you knew that already, didn’t you? So why doesn’t any of this work?

Productivity paralysis

Even when you do manage to sit down and start writing, it’s like there’s this invisible wall between your brain and the page. You know what you want to say. It’s all there — the characters, the plot twists, the dialogue so sharp it could cut glass. You’ve imagined the movie adaptation. You’ve cast it. (Tom Hardy is your leading man.) But when you try to put it into words? It’s like your fingers forget what language is. What comes out feels stiff, dull, and nowhere near as good as it was in your imagination.

Cue the frustration. Cue the self-doubt.

“Why can’t I get this out of me?”

“I’m not a real writer after all.”

You’re not alone — and you’re definitely not broken. Here’s what’s actually happening:

Your brain, like every other muscle in your body, needs time to grow and adapt to creative challenges. When you’re writing, especially creatively, you’re asking your brain to form connections between complex, abstract ideas — feelings, visuals, scenes, characters, timelines. These connections happen through neural pathways — tiny electrical circuits in your brain called synapses. And creativity? It’s not some mystical gift — it’s the result of these synapses firing across different regions of your brain in weird, wonderful combinations.

It’s how you link “dead grandmother’s diary” to “missing money” to “catfishing boyfriend.” (A story I would absolutely read, by the way.)

But when those connections aren’t firing smoothly — maybe because you’re tired, overwhelmed, out of practice, or terrified of writing something “bad” — your brain chokes. It stutters. The ideas are in there, but the signals get fuzzy. That’s writer’s block. Not the absence of ideas, but a disconnect between imagination and execution. And here’s the kicker:… that block gets worse the more pressure you put on yourself to be brilliant straight away. Perfectionism is like dumping sand in the cogs of your creativity. It makes your brain panic — activating the amygdala, the part responsible for fear and threat detection.

Suddenly, you’re not just writing, you’re fighting for your life. And your creativity? It packs its bags and runs for the hills. So stress and pressure to perform kills creativity. What’s the solution? Not waiting for inspiration. Not beating yourself up. It’s taking time to chill. Remember your love of books, and why you got into writing in the first place. Because creation is meant to be fun. It’s a beautiful symphony of words and imagination. Who wouldn’t want to be part of that? So how do you fix this temporary block on words?

By training to be the author that you dream of.

Like learning to play piano or lift weights, creative thinking improves with repetition and patience. It’s also important to shift your perspective of YOU. See yourself as the author you want to be. Act it out in your mind until it feels real. And if your writing isn’t up to scratch? Even the Stephen Kings of this world have an off day. Every time you write — even if it’s messy, awkward, or sounds like it was written by a sleep-deprived raccoon — you’re strengthening those creative synapses.

You’re showing your brain, “Hey, this is safe. We do this now. I’m a big shot author, don’t ya know!” And over time, the flow gets easier. The voice gets clearer. The blank page gets… less terrifying.

So no, you’re not lazy. You’re not untalented.

You’re just in the very normal, very human process of building a bridge between your imagination and your fingertips.

And yes — sometimes the bridge wobbles. Sometimes it collapses. Sometimes it’s on fire and those damn plot bunnies are chewing through the support beams. So what about the days that you’re writing but a full length manuscript feels like a lifetime away?

Welcome to overwhelm.

Honey, you keep going. Not because it’s easy — but because it’s worth it. Even on the days that it feels like you’re pushing a boulder uphill with a toothpick.

The solution?

Break. The. Boulder. Carry one piece at a time.

Don’t say: “I’m going to write 2,000 words today.”

Say: “I’m going to write a sentence about a vicar who drinks whiskey and solves crimes.” That first step? It’s the only one that matters. Here’s a secret weapon: the 5-minute freewriting rule. Free write for 5 minutes. That’s it. Don’t self edit. Don’t stop. Just write whatever comes into your brain.

You don’t need to find your muse.

She’s in Bali. Doing yoga. Not answering your calls. But momentum? That’s available. Right now. Because once you start, your brain flips the switch from “avoid” to “engage.” And suddenly, you’re not just writing — you’re remembering why you love this. Not because it’s easy. But because it’s yours.

Productivity paralysis is what keeps your bum on the couch and your brain saying, “Let’s reorganize the cutlery drawer instead.”

But momentum? Momentum is magic. Momentum is when you go from “ugh, I’ll just write a few sentences” to suddenly being five pages deep in your fictional world, emotionally attached to a side character you didn’t even plan. Free writing is the magic key that unlocks that door. Inertia whispers, “Don’t bother, it’s too hard.” Momentum shouts, “WE’RE DOING THIS!” like a slightly unhinged best friend at karaoke.

stick figure character standing on book
Image created via Midjourney

Now look — You’ll still have days where writing feels like wading through treacle in cement wellington boots. You’ll still spiral. You’ll still compare yourself to that author who “accidentally” wrote a novel during a weekend away. But that doesn’t make you broken. It makes you human. And humans write messy drafts. And take naps. And binge-eat Oreo biscuits instead of facing the blank page.

So here’s your pep talk:

You don’t have to be brilliant. You don’t have to be ready. As Nelson Mandela said, “It always seems impossible until it’s done.” You just have to write a few imperfect sentences. Today. Now. While your coffee’s still warm-ish. Because ugly drafts are how the good stuff finds its way out.

It’s why Stephen King said: write with the door closed, rewrite with the door open.

Because that’s when the real stories begin. Still here? Then you’re already further along than you think. So close the tabs. Open the page. And take that first, tiny, glorious step.

Subscribe to my new Youtube writing channel for more:

https://youtu.be/FgHNtNIX3NY

Free writing tools: https://www.caroline-writes.com/

My twisty bestselling books: https://caroline-writes.com/books

--

--

Caroline Mitchell
Caroline Mitchell

Written by Caroline Mitchell

NYT, USA Today, Washington Post and international #1 bestselling thriller author with 2M books sold. Ex-police. Writing course provider. www.caroline-writes.com

Responses (7)