The blank page gets blamed for a lot.

It's intimidating.

It's staring at you.

It's demanding that you fill it with something brilliant.

Except it isn't.

It's just a blank page.

The problem is usually everything you're expecting yourself to put on it.

A Blank Page Has No Expectations

The page doesn't care what you write.

It doesn't care if your first sentence is terrible.

It doesn't care about your spelling.

It doesn't know whether your idea is original.

It isn't comparing you to another writer.

It isn't wondering whether you're talented enough.

You are doing all of that.

The pressure isn't coming from the page.

You're bringing it with you.

You're Not Afraid of the Page

Think about what happens when you sit down to write something that matters to you.

You don't just see an empty document.

You see everything that could go wrong.

You might think:

That's not fear of a blank page.

That's fear of what might happen after you fill it.

The First Sentence Has Too Much Responsibility

Writers often put enormous pressure on the first sentence.

It has to grab attention.

Introduce the subject.

Establish the tone.

Make people want to keep reading.

And preferably sound clever while doing it.

No wonder it becomes difficult to write.

Take that responsibility away from the first sentence.

Write a temporary one.

I don't know how I'm going to start this yet, but what I want to talk about is...

Now you're writing.

You can find the real opening later.

You May Be Trying to Impress Someone

Writing becomes harder when an imaginary audience enters the room.

You start wondering how the piece will be received before the piece even exists.

Will people think you're clever?

Will they agree?

Will they share it?

Will another writer think it's amateurish?

Will someone find a mistake?

Now you're not simply trying to write.

You're trying to manage everybody's possible reaction to your writing.

That's a much harder job.

You May Be Protecting the Idea

An idea inside your head can be perfect.

It hasn't encountered reality yet.

The article in your imagination is brilliant.

The story is powerful.

The book is exactly what you want it to be.

Then you start writing.

Suddenly the sentences aren't quite as impressive as the idea felt.

That's normal.

Ideas are effortless. Turning them into something real takes work.

The gap between the idea and the first draft doesn't mean you've failed.

That's what editing is for.

The Blank Page Gives You Too Many Choices

A blank page can become difficult because you can put absolutely anything on it.

Where should you start?

Which story should you tell?

What tone should you use?

Should the article be serious?

Funny?

Personal?

Practical?

Every choice creates another choice.

Sometimes the solution isn't more inspiration. It's fewer options.

Give yourself a constraint.

Choose one idea.

Ask one question.

Tell one story.

Then begin.

Stop Trying to Produce the Finished Version

A first draft and a finished piece of writing are not the same thing.

But we often compare them as if they are.

You write a rough paragraph and compare it to a polished article someone else published.

Of course yours looks worse.

You're comparing construction materials with the finished house.

Your first draft is allowed to look unfinished.

That's because it is unfinished.

Put Something Bad on the Page

One of the easiest ways to make a blank page less intimidating is to ruin it.

Seriously.

Put something bad on it.

This is a terrible first sentence and I'm going to replace it later.

There.

The page isn't blank anymore.

Now write another sentence.

Then another.

A bad page gives you something a blank page never can: material to work with.

Use Freewriting to Remove the Pressure

If you can't get started, temporarily stop trying to write the actual piece.

Freewrite about it instead.

Set a timer for 10 minutes.

Start with:

What I'm trying to say is...

Then keep writing.

Don't worry about structure.

Don't edit.

Don't try to make it publishable.

Just explain the idea to yourself.

You might discover that you've already started writing the piece without realising it.

Give Yourself a Smaller Job

Don't sit down to write a book.

Write 200 words.

Don't sit down to create the perfect article.

Explain one idea.

Don't try to finish a chapter.

Write one scene.

Don't try to solve the whole argument.

Answer one question.

A smaller target gives your mind something concrete to do.

A Five-Minute Blank Page Exercise

Step 1: Open the Page

Don't research.

Don't outline.

Just open it.

Step 2: Write a Deliberately Bad Sentence

I have no idea how to start this properly, but...

Step 3: Finish the Sentence

What are you actually trying to say?

Forget how it sounds.

Step 4: Write for Five Minutes

No editing.

No deleting.

No searching for better words.

Keep moving.

Step 5: Find One Useful Thing

When the five minutes are finished, read what you wrote.

Find one useful sentence, idea, question, or observation.

Start there.

The Page Is Just Waiting for Material

The blank page isn't judging you.

It isn't demanding perfection.

It isn't asking for your greatest work.

It doesn't even require a good first sentence.

All of those demands come from us.

So remove them.

Your job isn't to fill the blank page with something brilliant.

Your job is to make the page not blank.

Write something.

Write badly if necessary.

Once the words exist, you can work with them.

But first, they have to exist.