How to Overcome Writer’s Block When Starting Your First Draft (And Why It’s Actually Good News)

How to Overcome Writer’s Block When Starting Your First Draft (And Why It’s Actually Good News)

So, you’ve got your laptop open. Your desk is cleared (except for a strategic coffee cup). Your fingers are poised over the keyboard like some kind of literary ninja…

…and then… nothing.

Crickets. Blank page staring you down like it’s daring you to mess up.

Congratulations! You’ve officially hit writer’s block. But wait… before you spiral into doom, I’m about to flip the narrative (yes, right now) and tell you that hitting writer’s block is actually good news.

Say what now?

Yeah. You see, writer’s block means your brain is about to break into a whole new level of creativity—you just need a few tricks to nudge it along. And that’s where I come in.

Let’s slap that block out of the way so you can write that first draft. Even if—scratch that—especially if it turns out to be a hot mess.


Stop Trying to Be Perfect (That’s Not Your Job Right Now)

Alright, let’s get one thing straight: Your first draft is supposed to suck.

There, I said it. And I feel better already.

Look, if you’re sitting there thinking, “But I need this first draft to be good, or why even bother?” you’ve just fallen into the oldest trap in the book: perfectionism.

Anne Lamott (a total legend in writing advice) wrote in Bird by Bird about what she calls “the sh*tty first draft.” In other words: Your first draft isn’t supposed to be good. It’s supposed to exist.

So, if you’re staring at that blank page, paralyzed with fear that what you write will be bad… good! That means you’re doing it right. The magic comes later—right now, your job is just to write.

Mindset Shift #1: Permission to Write Absolute Trash

Repeat after me: “I give myself permission to write garbage.” Seriously, go ahead and say it. Write the worst sentence in the world if you have to—just write it.


The Word Vomit Technique (Yes, That’s the Technical Term)

Alright, next up is an exercise I like to call Word Vomit (you’re welcome for that visual).

This technique comes from Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way, and it’s genius in its simplicity. Here’s what you do:

  • Set a timer for 10 minutes.
  • Write anything. Yes, anything. Even if it’s “I don’t know what to write, this feels stupid.”
  • When the timer’s up, stop.

Did you produce the next great novel in that 10 minutes? Probably not. But you’ve just started. And sometimes, that’s all it takes.

Mindset Shift #2: It’s About Movement, Not Masterpieces

Think of this like getting a car out of the mud. At first, it’s slow. But once the wheels start moving, you pick up speed. Your job isn’t to write a masterpiece. Your job is to move.


Use the Hemingway Trick (It’s a Bit Sneaky)

Here’s a fun little hack from everyone’s favorite macho-man writer, Ernest Hemingway: Never stop writing at the end of a scene.

Wait… what?

Yep, Hemingway swore by this trick. When you finish your writing session for the day, leave something unfinished. Like, stop in the middle of a sentence or a thought. That way, when you sit down to write the next day, you’ve already got something to jump into.

It’s like leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for your brain so it knows where to go next.

Mindset Shift #3: Leave Yourself a Cliffhanger

Your brain hates unresolved things. So give it something to itch over—leave that unfinished sentence hanging there, and you’ll find yourself itching to dive back in.


Set Ridiculously Tiny Goals (And Watch the Magic Happen)

This next one comes straight from James Clear’s Atomic Habits: Make your goals so small they’re laughable.

You know how you’re supposed to aim to write 1,000 words a day, right? Yeah, scratch that. Start with 2 minutes.

“Wait,” you say. “What can I accomplish in two minutes?”

Well, my friend, here’s the secret: Once you start, you’re more likely to keep going. And even if you don’t… you’ve still done something.

And something is better than nothing.

Mindset Shift #4: Tiny Wins Add Up

Remember: You don’t have to write a chapter a day. Just write something. And then, celebrate that win. Writing 50 words is better than zero words!


Shake Up Your Routine (Because Your Brain Gets Bored Too)

Here’s a crazy idea: If you’re stuck… stop writing.

I know, I know. But hear me out.

Sometimes writer’s block isn’t a mental block—it’s an environmental one. You’ve been sitting in the same spot for hours, staring at the same wall (or screen). Your brain is bored.

So, shake things up! Go for a walk (this worked for Roald Dahl), switch locations (J.K. Rowling wrote some of Harry Potter in cafes), or do something totally random like writing while standing up.

The novelty jolts your brain into gear.

Mindset Shift #5: Change Your Surroundings, Change Your Thoughts

Creativity loves variety. So if you’re stuck, mix it up. Fresh air, fresh coffee shop, fresh anything. Your brain will thank you.


Write “Crap” on Purpose (Yes, Really)

Stephen King doesn’t sit down and say, “Today, I shall write a masterpiece!” Nope. He sits down and says, “Today, I’ll write 2,000 words. And some of them might be terrible.”

That’s because the first draft is supposed to be rough. It’s like digging for treasure. You’ve got to shovel a lot of dirt before you find gold.

And the more words you get down, the more you’ll start to see the patterns, the characters, and the story shaping up. But only if you let yourself be bad first.

Mindset Shift #6: Progress Over Perfection

Your job is to make progress. Not perfection. Every terrible sentence is one step closer to a story worth telling.


Final Thoughts (And Your Call to Adventure)

So, the next time you sit down to write and that empty page dares you to fill it, remember: Writer’s block isn’t the enemy. It’s just a sign that your brain is gearing up for something great.

Take a breath. Try one (or all) of the strategies here. And don’t worry about whether your first draft is good. Spoiler alert: It won’t be.

But it will exist. And that’s what counts.

Now go… and write that gloriously imperfect first draft. You’ve got this.