There’s a particular kind of frustration that comes with wanting to write—really wanting to write—but sitting there feeling completely stuck.
Your mind is full, your heart is restless, and yet the page stays empty.
If that’s where you are, you’re not broken. You’re not lazy. And you’re definitely not “bad at writing.”
You’re just at the beginning.
Here’s what to do when you want to write but don’t know where to start.
First: Stop Looking for the “Right” Idea
One of the biggest blocks writers face is the belief that they need a perfect idea before they begin.
You don’t.
You need movement, not brilliance.
Waiting for the “right” idea often turns into waiting forever. Writing doesn’t start with certainty—it starts with curiosity.
Instead of asking:
- What should I write?
Try asking:
- What’s tugging at me right now?
- What emotion keeps resurfacing?
- What image, scene, or thought won’t leave me alone?
Those small, half-formed things are enough.
Lower the Bar (On Purpose)
Many writers freeze because they’re trying to write something important.
Important books.
Important stories.
Important words.
That pressure can shut creativity down completely.
Give yourself permission to write something small and imperfect:
- A paragraph
- A single scene
- A page of rambling thoughts
- A conversation with no context
- A “this might be terrible” draft
Writing badly is not failure—it’s the entry point.
Start With a Container, Not a Goal
Instead of saying, “I’m going to write a chapter,” try setting a container:
- 10 minutes
- 300 words
- One page
- One scene
- One question explored on the page
A container gives you safety.
A big goal can feel overwhelming.
You don’t need to know where the writing is going—you just need a place to start walking.
Use Prompts as Doorways, Not Rules
If your mind goes blank when you sit down, prompts can help—but only if you treat them gently.
A prompt is not a test.
It’s an invitation.
If a prompt sparks something unexpected, follow that instead. Let it drift, twist, or transform. Some of the best writing begins when you stop trying to “answer” the prompt and start listening to what it awakens.
Write From the Inside Out
When plot, structure, or genre feels too big, start closer to yourself.
Try writing:
- What you’re avoiding
- What you’re grieving
- What you’re longing for
- What you wish someone understood about you
- What feels heavy, tender, or unfinished
You don’t have to publish this writing.
You don’t even have to keep it.
But writing from emotional truth often unlocks stories faster than forcing an outline.
Give Yourself a Gentle Ritual
Sometimes the block isn’t about ideas—it’s about transition.
Your mind needs help shifting into creative mode.
A simple ritual can signal, “It’s safe to write now.”
- Light a candle
- Make tea
- Put on the same playlist
- Sit in the same spot
- Take three slow breaths before you begin
The ritual doesn’t need to be elaborate.
It just needs to be consistent.
Let “Starting” Be the Win
If you measure success by how much you wrote or how good it is, starting will always feel risky.
Try redefining success as:
- Opening the document
- Writing one sentence
- Showing up even when you’re unsure
Momentum comes after you begin—not before.
If You’re Still Stuck, Ask Smaller Questions
Instead of “What should I write?” try:
- Who is in the room?
- What just happened?
- What is this character afraid of?
- What does this moment smell like?
- What secret is being kept?
Small questions lead to specific answers—and specificity leads to story.
You Don’t Need Confidence to Start
You don’t need motivation.
You don’t need clarity.
You don’t need permission.
You just need to begin—messily, gently, imperfectly.
The page doesn’t require certainty.
It only asks that you show up.
And from there, the writing will meet you.
Sara's Writing Sanctuary 