These two words are the hardest thing to admit, when you’re writing your deathless novel, or screenplay, or short story. You’re supposed to be creating a work of timeless brilliance. How can you be bored?
But admitting that you’re bored is the first step to not being bored.
The power of boredom
A lot of writers get really good at pretending that we’re not bored, and it’s possible to get so good at pretending that you even convince yourself that you’re interested in what you’re writing, when you’ve actually checked out a while ago. We put so much energy into motivating ourselves to keep writing, to put words on the page at all costs, that it can be a huge nightmare to admit that what we’re writing is actually not that fun or interesting. It feels like a terrible betrayal.
And a lot of writing advice boils down to “If you get bored, just keep writing until you find your way through it.” Or ways to cover up your boredom, or work around it, or distract yourself from it. Just taking a beat and saying “This is boring” feels as though it goes against the “just write a crappy first draft” ethos.