The eternal question of a writer is how to cope with writer’s block. Do you let it take its course, and fill your life with other activities or artistic pursuits? Or is it better to continue to stare at that screen every day for your allotted two hours, hoping that determination and persistence will reward you with the return of creative inspiration?
The truth is, I don’t have an answer to this question. I’ve read plenty of essays and heard a lot of advice about the topic. All of these wise and experienced well-wishers are very likely telling me the truth about what works for them. The challenge is that it doesn’t seem to work for me, or at least, not all of the time.
As a result, I have taken to dealing with writer’s block in a different way every time, hoping to find my personal cure. These various attempts have not lead to more writing or a shortened period of writer’s block yet, but I have learned more about the world external to the written word. In short, writer’s block has turned into an adventure of sorts for me.
This week’s adventure was a culinary one. I have read that writers find themselves in bread dough and saucepans of melted chocolate. Over the course of the last week I have made three pans of dessert, two loaves of bread, a stir fry with caramelized chicken, and baked, breaded drum sticks. For someone who considers a cheese sandwich a satisfying dinner, this is a ridiculous amount of baking. It is amazing how much time I have when I’m not writing. When I devote my two hours a day when I normally write to something else, it becomes clear just how much one can accomplish in that amount of time. If I ever manage to be as productive as a writer as I am as a baker, I might actually finish something someday.
I have come to the conclusion that I actually enjoy cooking. While mixing the batter for my third dessert (whiskey brownies), I reached that peaceful elation I sometimes feel during a long walk or while folding laundry. It is that indefinable satisfaction that comes from a mechanical action so automatic that it frees your mind.
As my second week of writers block drags on, I understand why cooking relieves writer’s block for some. However, it doesn’t seem to be working for me. This is unfortunate, but I can’t help but feel that my exploration into baking has left me with a lasting fondness for cooking that will serve me well. After all, if I hope to be a mother someday, should I not learn how to feed myself before I become responsible for feeding my children?
In the end, the experience makes me think of a conversation I had with Stephanie Horlacher the other night, when we discussed how our different artistic expressions help us be better people. She is an actress, and has come to the realization that in order to take on any role, she must empathize with her character. This forces her to try to understand a myriad of different personalities. I would like to postulate that it is the methods that we resort to in order to accomplish art that lead us to explore aspects of the world and other people we wouldn’t normally traverse. For this reason, art will always challenge us and improve us through the nontraditional education of curiosity. This is why, if I could go back and choose between a week of artistic productivity, and a week of artistic frustration that came with a new love for cooking, I would choose the latter.
Thus ends another week as a writer ends, while the next begins.
