Let's get real for a second. Every writer in any genre experiences a point in their life I like to call the writer's crisis. It's that moment of utter existential dread where one realizes that they have nothing to write about. It's usually spurred by the realization that nothing has happened in life that is pivotal enough or simply important enough to write about. It's a borderline mid-life crisis experience that can occur at any moment in life. And although the reaction is different for every person, it can result in a complete halt in the creative mindset and a pause in writing all together. And it can last days, weeks, or even months.

It's different from writer's block. I refuse to believe that writer's block is real. I believe it's the product of a stubborn perfectionist attitude that inhibits the writer from putting any words on paper that he/she believes aren't perfect. It's believing that the first draft should be perfect, that one can produce a final draft on the first try. That just doesn't happen. Writer's block is the inability to thrive in that awkward, imperfect first or second draft. I know, I've been there, and I can tell you that it's the poorest excuse not to write.

Okay now that that's out of the way, let's talk about this crisis. I hit this crisis the other day which inspired me (ironically) to write about leaving in a previous article, The Need to Go. I realized, on my way back to school from fall break, while listening to the book The Things They Carried, that I haven't done anything in my life worth writing about. I realized this while listening to the book because it was an incredibly fascinating creative nonfiction piece that the author actually experienced. Granted, he fought in Vietnam, which gave him unlimited experiences to write about. Meanwhile, I, at the same age that he was drafted, am more concerned about keeping my grades up than having life adventures.

So, naturally, I panicked. That's the writer's crisis.

My writing professor says that nothing is too mundane to write about. Now, I do believe that's the truth, but in comparison, do you think someone would rather read about me trying to keep my grades up or how someone survived the Vietnam War? It's about the competition, because, unfortunately (but at the same time not), there are a lot of writers out there.

Now, I hesitate to give anyone advice on how to overcome the writer's crisis because I, myself, have not been able to gracefully overcome the sensation. When I had my own bout, I spent many days lying on my back in the middle of my room, staring at the ceiling, contemplating life. I also planned my own escape from college life, I almost got in my car and drove away until I ran out of gas. And while I won't say that I don't want to do those things anymore, I can say that if I do, I'll do so more responsibly, with some more planning and gas money. Perhaps even with a destination. Sure, a bit of the writer's crisis is still inside of me but it's mellowed down. I suppose it's a sensation that arises whenever a writer finishes one thing and then thinks, "what next?"

What next indeed. It's inevitable as a writer that you'll experience this sensation, and the advice I'll give to you is to revel in it. Don't let it tear you apart, but use it to figure out what exactly it is you want in life, what you want to experience. What you want to be remembered for doing. Who you want to be remembered as. The writer's crisis helps you find what you want to write about. Don't let it ruin you; let it guide you.