Every writer gets stuck somewhere down the line. It doesn’t matter how many plays you’ve written or how many drafts you’ve survived, at some point, the words stop flowing, and the story that felt so alive yesterday suddenly looks like a flat line on a heart monitor. You need some writer’s block solutions!
Most people call this writer’s block. And we’ve all experienced it. But never fear: there are ways to overcome it.
This article offers practical, craft‑based writer’s block solutions — the kind that don’t rely on waiting for inspiration, buying a new notebook, or lighting a candle and hoping the muse fancies a visit. Instead, we’re going to look at two of the most reliable tools for getting unstuck:
- Sharper dialogue
- Stronger stakes
These aren’t abstract ideas. They’re mechanical, usable levers that directly affect dramatic tension and conflict — the two engines that keep a story moving. When they’re weak, you stall. When they’re strong, you accelerate.
Ready? Let’s get started.
What is Writer’s Block?
Writer’s block can be a terrible thing. It’s frustrating and—at the time—it can feel like there’s no way out.
Something in the writing isn’t doing the job you need it to do. The scene feels under‑powered, under‑motivated, or under‑examined.
But the good news is: you can fix it. We’re not talking sitting it out here; you can unblock yourself by taking a step back and applying some writer’s block solutions.
Why Writers Get Stuck
Writer’s block rarely comes from a lack of ideas. It most often arises from a lack of clarity.
When you’re stuck, it’s usually because:
- You don’t know what the characters want
- You don’t know what they’re fighting for
- You don’t know what the scene is doing
- You don’t know what the audience should feel
And when those things get fuzzy, the writing slows to a crawl. You start second‑guessing every line. You write a sentence, delete it, rewrite it, delete it again. You convince yourself the whole thing is terrible.
But here’s the truth: you’re not stuck because you’re a bad writer. You’re stuck because the scene isn’t giving you enough to work with.
And that’s where dialogue and stakes come in.
Writer’s Block Solutions #1: Sharper Dialogue
When dialogue goes flat, it’s almost always because the characters aren’t doing anything with it.
They’re talking, but they’re not trying.
They’re not pushing, pulling, resisting, persuading, hiding, revealing, or attacking. They’re just… speaking.
And speaking is not drama.
Drama is behaviour under pressure. Dialogue is simply the manifestation of that behaviour.
So when you’re stuck, ask yourself:
1. What does each character want right now?
Not in the play overall. Not in the scene generally. What do they want right now, in this moment.
If you can’t answer that, the dialogue won’t move.
This comes down to conflict, which is only truly defined when you know what your characters want. Because if you don’t know what they want, you don’t know what they’re doing.
So, if your dialogue has becomes chatty and purposeless, go back to the immediate objectives.
2. What tactic are they using to get it?
Once you’ve clarified what your characters want, consider how they might go about getting it. Do they go straight for the jugular? This can work: they can enter the room and tell their partner that they want them to leave. But, in life, we use strategies to get what we want.
Strategies (or tactics) serve the drama. They make for electric theatrical moments—character objectives drive the action, strategies are where the subtext lives.
Are they charming? Threatening? Distracting? Pleading? Mocking? Manipulating?
If you don’t know the tactic, the dialogue will feel vague.
3. What’s the obstacle?
Knowing your protagonist’s objective is a halfway step towards conflict.
Because if the other character gives them what they want immediately, the scene ends. It’s dead in the water before it even started.
So who and what’s stopping your protagonist from getting what they want?
Acknowledging the Conflict
In my play All Tomorrow’s Parties, Jimmy wants to suggest that he and Clare have a baby together.
Jimmy knows that Clare has split up with her long-term partner, but he doesn’t know what happened to make him leave. And he doesn’t know that before he walks into the room Clare is contemplating ending her life.
He thinks that his suggestion is going to help her get back on her feet. He’s in a relationship with Andy that feels like it’s going nowhere, and this could help them all find some kind of direction in their lives.
So, I knew that that was what he wanted—he wants a baby. But I made it immediately impossible for him to ask because all Clare wants is for him to leave.
Conflict isn’t shouting. It’s friction. It’s resistance. It’s two people wanting incompatible things at the same time.
4. What changes because of this exchange?
Every scene should earn its place in the plot. If the world isn’t somehow different at the end of the scene, the scene isn’t quite doing its job. It has become static. And static scenes are where writers get stuck.
Objectives are where characters’ dialogue comes from. Dialogue is a device of objective; not telling (unless they’re telling as a strategy to get what they want).
Sharper dialogue isn’t about clever lines. It’s about clarity of intention. Once you know what each character wants and how they’re trying to get it, if can feel like the dialogue writes itself.
Writer’s Block Solutions: Stronger Stakes (The Engine of Dramatic Tension)
If dialogue is the surface, stakes are the depth.
Stakes answer the question: Why does this matter? What happens if they don’t get what they want?
When stakes are low, scenes feel flat. If they don’t stand to lose something by trying, the stakes aren’t high enough.
When stakes are high, even a quiet conversation can feel electric.
Stakes create dramatic tension — the sense that something important is at risk, and the outcome is uncertain.
When you’re stuck, ask:
1. What happens if the character fails?
If the answer is “not much,” you’ve found your problem.
2. What happens if they succeed?
This is just as important. Success should have consequences too. They might permit the story to progress, but what’s the cost?
3. What emotional cost is attached to the moment?
Stakes aren’t just external (“If I don’t get the job, I can’t pay rent”).
Stakes can be internal (“If I admit this, I’ll lose the version of myself I’ve been clinging to”).
4. What’s the ticking clock?
Time pressure is one of the simplest ways to raise stakes. If someone wants something by the end of the decade, there’s little urgency to get it done now. If they need to achieve their objective now, their determination peaks.
The ticking clock doesn’t have to be literal. It can be emotional, relational, or psychological.
When the stakes rise, momentum returns. Suddenly the scene has urgency. Suddenly the characters have something to lose. Suddenly you have something to write.
Why Dialogue & Stakes Can Help Solve Writer’s Block
Dialogue is action on the stage. What the characters say is how change takes place.
Rather than your character telling a story or saying something that delivers exposition rather than drama, get them actively speaking:
I convince you, I persuade you, I trick you, I force you, I charm you, I deceive you…
Writer’s Block Solutions: Making Things Clear
Writer’s block thrives in ambiguity. Dialogue and stakes eliminate ambiguity by forcing you to make decisions:
- What does the character want?
- What are they willing to do to get it?
- What stands in their way?
- What happens if they fail?
- What changes because of this moment?
Once you answer those questions, the scene becomes playable. And once it’s playable, it becomes writable.
This is why so many writers feel “blocked” when they’re actually just under‑resourced. They’re trying to write a scene without knowing what the scene is for.
Dialogue and stakes give the scene purpose.
Practical Writer’s Block Solutions You Can Use Today
Here are some tools you can apply immediately — the same ones I teach in Top of the Stack.
1. Write the scene as a fight
Even if the characters are being polite, even if they’re whispering, even if they’re smiling — assume they’re fighting for something.
- What are they fighting for?
- Who’s winning?
- Who’s losing?
- Who changes tactic first?
2. Give each scene a dramatic question
Think about how is doing what to whom and why.
The dramatic question for the opening scene of All Tomorrow’s Parties is Will Jimmy convince Claire to have a baby with him?
A good dramatic question implies conflict. It has a “do-er” (Jimmy) and a “resistor” (Claire). It implies a strategy (to convince), and it affirms the objective (to have a baby).
3. Give each character a secret
Secrets create tension. They shape behaviour. They sharpen dialogue. They raise the stakes.
People will protect a secret to the death. Or they might tell a secret they shouldn’t. Each affects character behaviours.
4. Add a ticking clock
Give the scene a time pressure. It doesn’t have to be literal. It can be emotional (“If I don’t tell them now, I never will”).
5. Change the power dynamic halfway through
Power shifts are rocket fuel for scenes. They create movement, surprise, and momentum.
6. Rewrite the scene with the opposite tactic
If the character is pleading, rewrite it as if they’re threatening.
If they’re joking, rewrite it as if they’re deadly serious.
You’ll discover new possibilities instantly.
7. Raise the stakes by naming the cost
Have the character say (or imply) what they stand to lose.
Fear is a powerful motivator.
8. Cut the first three lines
Most scenes start too early. Cut the warm‑up. Start where the conflict begins.
Why These Tools Work (And Why I Teach Them)
I use these tools because they’re assist in the craft of playwriting—there’s nothing mystical about them. They’re avaiable and applicable to all.
You don’t need inspiration to use them. You don’t need to wait for the muse. You don’t need to feel “ready.” You just need to engage with the craft.
Top of the Stack—season one in January!
This is the philosophy behind Top of the Stack — our new playwriting course designed to give writers a clear, structured, confidence‑building process.
Top of the Stack isn’t about waiting for lightning to strike. It’s about tools, clarity, and momentum.
When you understand how dialogue works, how stakes operate, and how dramatic tension is built, you stop feeling stuck and start feeling equipped.
It’s not Writer’s Block — You’re Under‑Powered
Writer’s block isn’t a personal failing. It’s a craft problem. And problems have solutions.
Sharper dialogue gives your characters purpose. Stronger stakes give your scenes urgency. Together, they create the momentum you’ve been missing.
If you want to go deeper into these tools — with exercises, examples, and a step‑by‑step method for building a play from the ground up — you’ll find all of that inside Top of the Stack.
You don’t need to wait for inspiration. You just need the right tools. And once you have them, you won’t stay stuck for long.
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