Going For Broke or An Unconventional Approach to Curing Writer's Block

Being an aspiring writer in New York City can be wonderful: inspiration in the air, the publishing industry easily accessible, fantastic research institutions nearby. It can also be debilitating: the constant sense of not writing enough, successfully enough, and quickly enough and the constant stream of distractions outside the writing room (or couch, in my small-apartment-style life) have done as much damage to my writing mojo as my grad school commitments.

But I will fear no longer, for I believe I have found a surefire way to block out the city's relentless thrills and rededicate myself to scholarly and literary pursuits--namely, my poverty. You see, my husband and I are the brand-new, not-even-truly-closed-upon-yet owners of a two bedroom apartment in Park Slope, Brooklyn, and I will never be able to afford to do anything in this city again.

I do think this (exciting!) event will be beneficial to my writing. I'm leaving Manhattan and I'm going to have to cut down on my social life a bit, for financial reasons, but that will help me find additional writing time. We'll have a second room to use as an office, as least until we have kids in a few years. A dedicated writing/studying space should help me with my focus in both areas, something I've been struggling with mightily this last semester. I'm a person very much affected by my environment, and I can't help but think that having a home that's truly mine, that I can paint and love and make beautiful, will help me feel creative and productive.

Of course, all the time and energy it will take to move there won't help my writing this summer. Nor will the immense effort I need to put into writing my MA thesis and studying for my comps. But there's always something to keep you from writing. I've let that be my excuse for too long.

(Photo is the main sitting room in my pretty new apartment. Love the bay window and working fireplace just out of the shot).