Another tried and true method for defeating writer’s block is the idea file. Think of it as an imagination tool kit. It is, essentially, a binder designed to kick-start your imagination when your back is against a wall. They vary widely, but all have some basic elements in common. My idea tool kit is equipped as follows:

Clear, accordion-style, file binder:

• red pen
• black pen
• blue pen
• drawing pencils
• file folders (each labeled: news, magazine, notes, scrap)
• three rubber bands
• little red sticky-arrows
• two highlighters (yellow, green)
• moleskein notebook
• jumpdrive (128mb)
• drawing paper
• assorted crayons
• protractor
• scissors
• gluestick

The key to a successful idea toolkit is to be sure to stock it with ideas. Ideas range from magazine articles and news clippings to bar-napkin diagrams and models made of cigarette boxes. Personally, I scour a few websites every day, printing off odd headlines and stuff them in my file. I read them later, sometimes years later, when I’m out of ideas. Sometimes I just store the headlines: “sex smells lures vampire fish to doom” – um, yeah, that’s one that gets the brain going. Don’t store articles you know by heart or on topics on which you are an expert. Those won’t get the creative juices flowing. They’ll reinforce the validity of your knowledge base, and you’ll still have nothing to write about.

Search far and wide. Pick up magazines you would normally never touch. I found in a Field and Stream an article entitled “Trapped under your four-wheeler, surrounded by wolves…” After laughing hysterically at the thought of being trapped under your four-wheeler, abandoned by your friends, your weapon lost and snarling Romanian, shape-shifting wolves circling you with murder in their eyes, their bloody teeth gnashing, just waiting for you to use up the last bit of your strength struggling to escape, so they can… what, eat your face… I pulled the article headline, the accompanying illustration (and with respect to the very skilled illustrator) I tucked it away under “misc human mistakes.”

Use your printer. Print like mad. Print photos. Draw on them. Draw diagrams. Don’t think your creativity need to be bound by the keyboard and the flickering, sickly blue glow of that expensive LCD you bought because you thought it would help you stay focused (instead it just hypnotizes you, lulls you into a false sense of security and then BAM, your story is late).

Sometimes I take my Idea File with me. I take it to bars and page through two-color ‘Zines printed out on bright pink paper by over zealous college freshmen. I scissor out the Xerox-machine looking pictures and toss them in the file.

The dentists office is filled with Sports Illustrated, Time, Newsweek and National Geographic. An idea explosion. Plus, I think I get a chuckle thinking that the next person to read the magazine if going to wonder who cut out all the photos of airplanes in a single issue. 

You get the idea. None of that would happen if you hadn’t had writer’s block to begin with, right? Well, maybe, but you, as a writer, have to sit down and unblock the block yourself. There’s no over-the-counter brain enema for us creative types. We don’t have the luxury of mood if we want to get paid for our words. So, what’s the first step?

Breaking the block

Step 1. Wear a helmet
Life’s hard, fellow writer. You know that. You remember all those classes in college with your burnt out professors telling you you’ll never make a dime as a writer. You know that from the looks you get every time you tell someone you’re a writer. Best Buy credit apps don’t register “writer” very well. Freelance novelist gets about the same result. So you’ve got to toughen up. Cast a stoneskin and write. Don’t worry about not writing. Just, write.

Step 2. Wear a helmet (literally)
Sounds a little queer, but a writing ritual helps. If you’ve got a favorite outfit to write in, make sure it’s clean and pressed and comfy for you before you’re deadline. I wear a cowboy hat or a WWII helmet, depending on what I’m writing. Right now, I’m sporting a beard of six-days, my black cowboy hat and silver sunglasses. The writing outfit tells everyone two things: You’re busy writing and that you’re a little un-balanced – both say “Don’t bother me.”

Step 3. Feed the needs
When you’re blocking (that’s the professional term), you’re going to come up with any reason at all to not sit in front of your machine and write. So, eliminate the excuses. Hungry? Order a pizza. While you wait, see if you can’t hack out a page. Thirsty? Compose the next sentence while you run for a coke. Tired? Coffee. Not $tarbucks. Just boil up some coffee and bring the pot in the writing room with you. Tense? Crack a beer and see if you can get in a page per can. That’s the ideal ratio. More of less than that and you have to adjust a little.

Step 4. Play a game with your inner editor
Some of my best stories have come from a manic exercise where you’re not allowed to stop typing or writing for fifteen, thirty or forty-five minutes at a stretch. Don’t hit delete. Don’t stop typing. If you’re stuck, write that you’re stuck. This stream-of-thought style creates a nightmare for your inner editor (but didn’t we all decide that dude was a jerk anyhow?) and forms a rather manic style, but, that leads us to step five.

Step 5. Read and Rewrite
Here’s something we all forget: just because we hack it out, doesn’t mean we can’t change it. If you’re doing step four, you’re going to need to re-write anyway. Or perhaps your stuck and aren’t quite brave enough to write without your self-censor, then pull up an old file. Something your wrote last year, last semester, last night, and check it out. Maybe it’s almost done and you can see an easy finish. Maybe it’ll just stir something or jar something loose and you’ll get that mental enema you’ve been waiting for. Or maybe you’ll see a directory filled with unfinished stories and the sheer guilt of it all will get you writing again.