Writers Block Lament1
I haven't written in weeks. What's wrong with me? I sit in front of my computer and stare at the blank screen. The damn cursor is mocking me with it's constant blinking. I play a few games of solitaire. The frustration is building with each wasteful second. Maybe if I look at newspapers or photographs. Who am I kidding. My head hurts from trying to squeeze out an idea. I play a few more games of solitaire. The boredom is immense. I surf the internet desperately looking at writing prompts. Surely something, somewhere will tickle my brain with an idea. Nothing. With sad resignation I turn off the computer and go shopping.2
I meet friends for lunch and they tell me I seem a million miles away. I am. A million miles inside the deepest, darkest, hellhole of my brain searching for my muse. And when I find it, I don't know whether to hug it or kick it in the ass. My friends converstions do not interest me. We end the lunch and I go home.3
I read a book, or attempt to anyway. My comprehension is so befuddled I read the same paragraph several times. My favorite author does not interest me.4
I roam the house with the whimsical idea that maybe my muse is hiding in a dark corner or closet and just needs to be coaxed out. The dishes are piling up and the beds need to be made. I grab a beer, cigarettes and make a lethargic path to the deck. I sit, take a gulp of beer, light a cigarette and curse fate for dealing me such a cruel twist of writers block.5
A sudden, violent gust of wind rustles the leaves in the treetops. I look up. What is that? A dark shadow, hooded and cloaked, seems to be peering at me through the branches. I can't tell. It's too far away. Something long forgotten stirs from slumber in the forbidden recesses of my brain. I had seen the same shadow as a child. An idea begins to form. Yes, Yes! I rise, rush past the piled up dishes, and feverisholy run to my computer. I hug my muse with glee as my fingers dance across the keyboard with renewed hope.
Comments
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This explains with simple words what a lot of writers go through from time to time.I thought that you would end this with I dont know,you sleeping and giving up for tonight.But sometimes a happy ending is all we need.
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Great way of capturing something...
...that we've all been through. I could really relate. Hell, I almost jumped up on top of my chair and screamed "yes, yes! I'm not alone!"
I really like this piece because aside from the excellent conversational style by it's laidback quality; it really hit the nail on the head. In my opinion, I think you've really embodied in your piece the 'writers life'.
In these occassions my friends are the lambrusco in my fridge, the cigarettes in my handbag and my selection of horror movies on my shelf. When the muse is kind, my flatmate notices movie soundtracks coming from my room, along with the waft of incense and the constant cups of tea by my side.
beginning: 5, language: 5, plot: 5, ending: 5, dialog: 5, characters: 5.
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I HATE writers block! I'm sure everyone can relate to this story. Well written! It sounds like something I would do, only I'd probably have a red bull and a little carton of Ben and Jerry's Tin Roof. Hope you post more soon! -Liz
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Writers Block Lament
Hello, Hopefully my writers block has past. I wrote exactly what I felt during that time and hoped other writers could relate. Thank you for the applause, it is much appreciated. My computer crashed not too long ago but I have a new one now and will post more stories soon.
Stay tuned,
Ingrid
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