From threatening laptops to befriending squirrels, desperate writers everywhere prove that chaos might be the next best muse when the words don’t come

By Shaye-Love Salcedo

Disclaimer: This story is a satirical piece, although nobody will judge if these tips do end up helping you!

Writer’s block has struck again. Across the world, blank pages glow mockingly on screens, coffee cups pile up beside frustrated writers and the creative well runs as dry as a winter lawn. Desperate times call for desperate measures — or, at least, nonsensical ones.  

Clara Tock, author of the cult hit Love in the Time of Deadlines, admits she’s no stranger to the phenomenon. “I once spent three hours staring at a blinking cursor before deciding to just… threaten my laptop,” she says. “I told it I’d trade it in for a typewriter if it didn’t cooperate. It didn’t work, obviously, but at least I felt like I was taking action.”  

Tock is not alone in her antics. Writers everywhere share a collective agreement that when conventional methods fail, chaos will suffice. Affery Fogato, a screenwriter known for his caffeinated thriller Mocha Madness, swears by “the 12-cup method.”  

“I drink coffee until my hands shake,” Fogato says. “That’s when you hit peak creativity — or at least peak productivity in alphabetizing your bookshelf.” When asked if this actually helps with writing, Fogato pauses. “It hasn’t yet, but my bookshelf looks fantastic.”  

From ghosts to movie marathons

Others have turned to more philosophical sources of inspiration. Derek Spook, an indie horror novelist, is convinced the key lies in the supernatural. “I always summon Hemingway when I’m stuck,” he says. “I light a cigar, pour a glass of whiskey and start reciting The Old Man and the Sea. It’s not plagiarism if it’s from a ghost.”  

His attempts at contacting the literary greats have yet to produce usable prose, but Spook is undeterred. “Even if I don’t write a word, I feel closer to genius. That counts for something, right?”  

Of course, not everyone resorts to necromancy. Some writers lean into the fine art of procrastination. “Writer’s block is a sign that I need to take a break,” says Marcus Wayt, an essayist who prides himself on his dedication to self-care. “And by ‘break,’ I mean watching two seasons of The Crown. I call it research. You’d be amazed how many parallels exist between royal intrigue and grocery store loyalty cards.”  

The solution lies in the animal kingdom for Ivy Paine, a nature poet. “When words fail me, I look to the squirrels,” she says with a serene smile. “There’s something so poetic about their frenetic energy.” Paine describes long afternoons spent in the park, watching squirrels leap from branch to branch.  

But not all her peers are as enthusiastic. Blogger Emma Shomp tried Paine’s advice with less-than-ideal results. “I got too close and got bitten,” she admits. “Now I’m working on a memoir called Rabies and Revelation. So… maybe it worked?”  

Blame the stars, start a side hustle  

While some writers embrace nature, others turn to the cosmos. A lifestyle columnist, Jasmine Celeste has an astrological explanation for her creative slumps. “Mercury retrograde,” she says with a shrug. “What else could it be?”  

When her writing stalls, Celeste redirects her frustration into crafting elaborate horoscopes. Her recent piece, Mercury Hates Artists, went viral among blocked creatives. “Sometimes, when the words won’t come, it’s easier just to blame the stars.”  

Then, the multitaskers tackle writer’s block by doing anything but writing. Sarah Wood, a self-help author, calls it “productive procrastination.”  

“When my novel wasn’t going anywhere, I decided to start a podcast,” she explains. “Then a blog. Then, a macrame business. Eventually, I missed writing because it was less exhausting than all the side projects.”  

The hard truth

For all their inventive methods, most writers agree that there’s no magic cure for writer’s block. “Sometimes, you just have to wait it out,” Tock says. “Pet a dog. Take a walk. Eat something delicious. The words will come when they’re ready.”  

Quinn nods sagely at this sentiment before adding, “Or you can summon Hemingway. That always feels productive.”  

Whether you’re threatening your laptop, binge-watching historical dramas, or befriending squirrels, one thing is clear: writer’s block may be frustrating, but it’s also an excellent excuse to explore the absurd. So pour that 12th cup of coffee, light that cigar and embrace the chaos. The blank page isn’t going anywhere.