Writer's block, an owner's guide: Reversal Theory and blocking

Let’s talk about reversal theory again, because it’s at the heart of my approach to the fun part of all this: actually curing writer’s block.

Reversal Theory has been used in therapy with various problems, but it found its home in sports psychology. The key to counseling athletes has been to find the inappropriate reversals that interfere with performance, and then find ways to prevent or correct them. (Go read John Kerr’s books for yourself; there’s a new one just out; they probably won’t be reviewed in this weblog any time soon because the blog is not about sport). The question I’ve been asking myself is whether, given reversal’s theoretical relevance to the writing life (which I’ll explain tomorrow), reversal-based counseling would really be useful to writers.

To begin answering that question let’s look at how a “reversal therapist” (I just made that up right now but I like it as a job title for myself) might deal with the problems of a few writers. All of these vignettes are based on true stories.

Vignette 1

Challenge: In high school Andrew always found creative writing was the easy option. It needed no preparation and he knew he could respond to any homework assignment and any test paper. He began writing science fiction and submitting his efforts to magazines. After years of this Andrew, now a college student, got a letter of from a prominent editor and author that was obviously personal, individual advice. At last he could see himself as a Writer, a recognized candidate member of the creative community. His response to this exciting encouragement? he didn’t write another word of science fiction for many years.

Assessment: This is a simple example of reversal from paratelic to telic. Andrew’s writing changed from a hobby to a potential paying activity. It’s relevant that this happened just as he was moving away from childish dependence on his parents and into knowing about real life.

Andrew’s challenge is that, once he defined himself as a writer, he lost sight of the pleasure of writing for its own sake.

Treatment: So he needs to reverse from telic to paratelic. This isn’t easy to control. Of the three ways to encourage reversal, satiation would be hard to induce, and by definition long-term blocked writers seem not to benefit from frustration. So contingency seems the most feasible. In short, we need to make writing fun again.

The counselor might help Andrew to see that professionalism isn’t an all or nothing choice and that people whose work is writing can also write for pleasure. The counselor might urge Andrew to try some enjoyable form of “pointless” writing such as journaling or even giving himself permission to ‘write chatty emails for a few minutes in each hour. This wouldn’t directly address his difficulty with making progress on money-making projects: and that is exactly the point of it.

Because they’re rooted in a purposeful and theory-driven strategy, these tactics might be acceptable to Andrew, and he might overcome his suspicion of morning pages and other ‘time-wasting’ activities.

Vignette 2

Challenge: Brenda is a writer of proven ability who has successfully written some screenplays. Some of them are adaptations of historical events, others are soap-opera episodes written from outlines that the producers supply. Now she wants to create a fully original play or - an even bigger project - her first novel.

But Brenda can’t develop a plot. She works hard at thinking about this and at studying writing textbooks, but nothing helps. She knows that other people have no difficulty turning out one story after another. That doesn’t help either. She’s not willing to do what works for some of them - to start writing without really knowing where the story will go. That doesn’t suit her

Assessment: This is harder to analyze. Brenda’s state is clearly telic (that’s why she does anxiety-reducing activities like reading handbooks, which is a popular substitute for action). Perhaps like Andrew she’d do better if she could reverse that: maybe she could find ways to make story development fun (such as working with a partner) or find a way to give herself a break from the sense of urgency.

But that doesn’t seem to be what’s actually troubling Brenda. She has something else going on. By any normal standard she’s a healthily productive writer. The problem that brings her to a therapist is, really, that she’s not satisfied by her proven strengths and wants to develop additional strengths. So the issue becomes one of mastery [Note to myself: To Do: it's also a question of how to maintain flow as you grow more skilful]. The combination of the telic and mastery states is a breeding ground for guilt, shame, and the fear of being found out.

Treatment: There are two things a reversal therapist might do. One would be to discuss his analysis with Brenda and invite her to think consciously about whether she could be content with being the acknowledged productive writer that she already is. By playing to her strengths she could develop a niche market, she could write and sell many more of her historical stories and soap episodes and she could decide to accept the resulting recognition.

But she might decide that she still wants to work on her inability to create original stories. Then she must move out of the mastery state and into the sympathy state. Mastery of technique is important, but the mastery state, in which you get so concerned with technique that the audience becomes secondary, isn’t healthy for an entertainer. Let her recreate herself as a storyteller and entertain others. One way to let go of not knowing how to tell the story is to go tell it to someone. Another is to write it as if you were writing to a friend. Perhaps Brenda would like to envision friends sitting around a campfire, and then speak into a tape recorder.

These practices might cause a second, parallel, reversal from autic to alloic, which would help Brenda to get out of her head.

Vignette 3

Challenge: Charles is a beginning scriptwriter, with some minor credits. One day, while he’s working at his day job, a producer calls. “I liked your spec script: I want to hear any other ideas you have for full-length productions!” He does have a great idea, but this is not a conversation he can have on his employer’s phone. He promises to get back to her. Now he says he “can’t” make the call.

Assessment: Charles’s problem is quite like Andrew’s. The producer’s call changed Charles from a wannabe to a contender. It’s one thing to submit spec scripts to anonymous editors, another to attend meetings about your own ideas. His behavior is an example of snatching defeat from the jaws of victory, as creative people love to do.

In Charles’s case one factor was that he seems to have been in the telic state: he experienced the excitement of the phone call as anxiety. If he’d chosen to have it as positive excitment he might have Answered The Call more enthusiastically and persuasively. Maybe he’d even have come up with a creative solution to completing the conversation? So one approach to Charles’s problem would be to teach him how to access the paratelic state.

Charles wants to make the right impression in the hope of doing himself some good. In other words he is in the autic state while he’s trying to do something that would be easier in the alloic (I guess one of the advantages that established writers enjoy over people like Charles is the freedom to deal with existing and new business contacts in a relaxed, natural way that must be good for business).

Charles is also keen to demonstrate his skills as a writer and have his claim to membership of the creative community confirmed (this is an issue of mastery). The trouble is that the need to demonstrate his ability is probably what caused his paralysis. Things would go so much better if he could avoid disappointing the producer.

Treatment: Making the reversal into the alloic state would require a conscious decision to feel friendly towards an important stranger. Depending on Charles’s pre-existing skills this might be difficult.

To access the paratelic state, Charles can use broadly the same methods as Andrew. The cure could be as simple as reminding himself that every one of us can choose to experience stage-fright as anxiety or as excitement.

Charles needs to return the call at once, relate to the producer effectively, share his enthusiasm and show that he is ready to hear expert advice. He could make these tactical moves better in the sympathy state. To move him into it from his mastery state the counselor could try guided relaxation, helping him to accept the fact of his existing talent and to relate to the producer’s own needs.

Vignette 4

I’ve deleted Vignette 4 because I couldn’t get the permission of the heavily-disguised writer I was going to tell you about. See how considerate I am?

Conclusion

I did check with Andrew, Brenda and Charles and they all say that my interpretations gave them surprising insight into questions that have bothered them for years, and they are positive about my ideas for changing things. This is a pretty good result for what’s basically a thought experiment.

Now, then. Nothing I’ve suggested here is novel. Other therapists might do the same things, for their own different reasons. What’s new here is the reversal framework. It gives writers a credible structure within which we can make sense of our experiences, reduce our anxiety and be more ready to try helpful responses to the challenges. And I think that is good.

Published on March 25, 2005 at 7:37 am. Linking to this article? Thank you! The permanent address is http://www.todayiwrite.com/journal/reversal-theory-and-blocking.html

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