Raise your digital hand if you’ve done this:
You’re writing, and you hit the point you just don’t want to write. You don’t know why, but getting through this part is a fucking slog. It’s like trying to climb a mountain wearing lead boots and cement underpants.
You’re just not interested in writing this part. It’s necessary—you can’t just flip from the intro to the big EXPLOSION at the end*—but, damn it, you’re bored writing it. So you do other stuff—hello, Twitter—and complain and generally go slower and slower.
Well, here’s a thought:
Maybe you’re bored because it’s fucking boring.
It’s an unfortunate thing to say about your own writing, but think about it: if you’re bored writing it, how interesting is is going to be for a reader? I was writing a section recently that I had avoided for ages, because it bored me. Eventually, I just cut it altogether and you know what? No one noticed.
The middles of books are tricky. You’ve introduced most everyone, you’ve got the conflict going…but you’re not sure how you get from there to the end.
So the characters remain in a holding pattern, which is boring as shit.
You’re treading water, so better get out of there before the sharks turn up. Try cutting the part you don’t want to write. Does it make a difference? If not, great! Move on. If you still need it, maybe you’re being too nice. The middle of the story is a great time to fuck things up.
What would make the section less boring? A new villain? An old boyfriend? An explosion? A car accident? Basically, what shit do you not want to deal with in real life? Try that. That might be good. Tie it into the main plot somehow, load up your Problem Cannon, and let loose with both barrels. That gives the characters something to scramble around and fix—badly, usually, because that’s how authors roll—while you explain whatever it is was boring you in the first place.
But whatever you do, never settle for the boring scene, or chapter, or book. If it can’t keep your attention while you’re writing it, guaranteed it’s going to boot the writer out of your little world faster than a handsy drunk out of a strip club. It’s up to you, writer, to make it interesting enough that they stay. And that means you have to be interested, too.
*Even if it’s a FEELINGS EXPLOSION and not a regular one.
6 thoughts on “Boring Things Are Boring: Getting Stuck And Getting Past It”
Great point, and it sounds just like what I’m going through.
Fantastic point. This was a reason (in part) why I burned out in the middle of the last novel I was working one.
“What shit do you not want to deal with in real life?” is something I’ll be thinking about when I’m ready to go at it again.
The best thing about that question is that it works for every genre. Don’t want to deal with uncomfortable family conversations! Don’t want to deal with the police! Don’t want to deal with the invading army of hyper-intelligent space ants!
Oh hells bells. I guess it’s time to just bite the bullet and add another blog to my already bloated reading feed. (Your footnotes alone are worth the price of admission!)
Free footnotes with every read! Thanks for the compliment.