Is your writer’s block actually revision stagnation?


You have a draft you’re excited about. It’s a new direction for you or it finally says that thing you’ve been trying to say for years. Or maybe you know it’s going to be a big supporting wall in your manuscript. You felt alive and tuned-in while writing it.

You let it sit a few weeks before revising it. Then you start knocking the rust off: you delete some unnecessary adjectives, you cut the throat-clearing first stanza and replace it with a strong image. It’s going well. You’re still excited about the poem. And then suddenly you read it aloud and it sounds flat. Or the images feel dull and predictable. Or there’s a line that sticks out like a sore thumb.

Red flags go up in your brain. The draft is Not Good Enough. But you don’t see a way to improve it. In fact, it seems to congeal on the page, getting more stuck (and less interesting) every time you read it. Meanwhile, you become a bit obsessed (some might even say fixated) and find it difficult to turn your attention to other drafts while the Problem Poem sits unresolved.

This is revision stagnation: the mean older cousin of writer’s block. It halts your revision process in its tracks. And it can start to eat away at your confidence in your ability to write new poems and revise existing ones. Revision stagnation is no fun, but it isn’t permanent (it just feels that way) and it can be dissolved (or at least encouraged to move along).

The essential ingredients for a revision stagnation cure are Fresh Air and Fresh Eyes.

Fresh Air

Abandon your desk and go for a walk (this method consistently ranks #1 in unofficial polls of writers’ dogs). Clear the mental cobwebs, pump some blood through your brain, gaze at some plants, and you’ll likely return in a better frame of mind.

Tidy your desk. Throw away the broken pens, pick up all the dirty coffee mugs, take out the trash, dust, and generally clear the stagnant energy from your workspace. This has the advantage of getting rid of distracting messes and reminding you that small changes can make a big difference (and that you have the power to make changes).

Fresh Eyes

Get feedback that helps you see the work from a new perspective. As a poetry coach, I think one of the most helpful things I do is bring fresh AND experienced eyes (and ears) to your poem. I can be excited because the poem is new to me. I can ask questions that help you see the poem from a reader’s perspective and help you clarify your intention(s) for the poem. And I can offer editorial suggestions that help you see new possibilities and directions for the poem.

You can also be your own fresh eyes. You will be a different person in the future. Let the poem sit for 1-6 months (without reading it, preferably without thinking about it) and then return to it. It will look different and you’ll have a different perspective. It might also help to equip yourself with some new revision tools. I’ve built three budget friendly toolkits—The Funnel, Signal and Static, and The Wild Redo—to guide you through some of my favorite revision techniques.

In my own writing life, I have found that dissolving revision stagnation not only helps me move my draft-in-progress forward (and towards publication) but also frees me up to generate new ideas.

Wishing you peace, health, and inspiration,

Ceridwen

P.S. In case you missed it, my new chapbook, minutes between city and forest is available from Rockwood Press.

Field Notes from a Poetry Coach

Biweekly inspiration for developing a creative practice that supports your writing and your well-being.

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