Two weeks ago, I posted about how I was giving up on a story that just wasn’t working. I was two days until the submission deadline for an anthology, and I hadn’t yet made it through the first draft. It was daunting. It seemed impossible. I gave myself permission to give up and not go through with it.

Then, the most miraculous thing happened.

I got unstuck.

The words started flowing.

And there, finally, was the first draft of the story I had been trying to write for two whole months.

But now I had a problem. I was two days from the deadline and had already told myself I had given up on it. So what did I do? The only natural thing, of course. I gave up on giving up and dived into my story from the 10-meter platform. There was no turning back. I hit the water and kept right on swimming.

Sometimes it happens like this. Writing is funny. You want to do something, in your head you can see yourself doing it, but the words just don’t come. The plot doesn’t come. Something just isn’t working right, no matter how you try. Creativity is unfortunately not something you can force. You can show up to work, sit at your computer or notebook, hands poised over your pages. You can do your part. But when the Muse just doesn’t want to be heard, or she doesn’t want to show up, there’s not a whole lot you can do.

I was in that position for two whole months. I had an outline for this short play I was attempting to write, a demonic adaptation of Shirley Jackson’s “The Lottery.” It was a fun idea. I loved it. I adored the direction I was taking it in. 

But the words just would get onto the page. Not even get on the page RIGHT, but get on the page at all. I had a boulder-sized writer’s block.

I think I was stuck because I wanted this story to exist more in my head than in my heart. Yes, I liked the premise of what I came up with, but more than that, I felt I SHOULD submit something to this anthology. That not doing so would be a waste of an opportunity more than wanting to tell a good story.

That kind of thinking will stop a writer in her tracks. It certainly did with me.

It was only when I freed myself up from the “should” of doing it to the reality of not writing it—not seeing this fun story come to life—that my fog cleared and I was able to actually write it. I think I needed to WANT to do it. I wanted this story to exist, and I wanted to let it have a chance to exist in the world, beyond the confines of my computer.

The hardest part of being a writer is knowing when to buckle down on a story, when to re-plot and start over, and when to give up. It’s easy to say, “Never give up,” but that’s too easy. Sometimes you need a break, you need to take a step back. Sometimes you need to shelve something altogether; it’s not the right story for you to tell. 

The trouble is figuring out which time is which, which feeling is which.

There is no easy answer to that, I’m afraid. I think it’s just something you cultivate in your gut as you write. I chose right this time: I gave myself permission to give up when I needed it, then I gave up on giving up when the story opened up to me. 

For this time, I made the right decision. 

I’m proud of myself for what I accomplished, and I’m proud of my story for existing. It didn’t work out exactly as planned, but I think it’s ultimately better for that. It’s also not perfect since I wrote and revised it in two days (with a little help from my friends!) but I did the thing. I wrote it; I submitted it; I did the work of a writer. 

No matter what happens with this submission, I’m proud of myself and my little play. And for today, that’s all I need.

What projects have you struggled with that you ultimately succeeded in accomplishing? How did you get over the hump? Share in the comments below!