Rarely have I stared at a blank screen this long, wondering when the mind’s eye might write. Three dogs on my bed, 2 cats on their half of the desk, I sit in front of a blank screen and feel so alone.
There’s a difference between loneliness and solitude. One sees the fragile glass of life as half empty, the other sees the adaptive strength of a glass half full. Both states of mind are achievable inside of a crowd.
And yet…my body feels not like a corporeal experience, it feels like a barrier to life.
Is this depression? No. I remember losing my husband, my mother and my father. That was an agonizing flu compared to this annoying cold.
What I’m experiencing at this moment in time is simply a bad case of writer’s block.
Just so you know…I’m not sitting around doing nothing. I’ve been going through book 3, cutting out redundancies, planning which sections need to be slashed, mashed or trashed.
Yes, this state of mind is good for something: When cutting words and sentences, it’s merciless.
How do you handle writer’s block? Do you…
Sit on a park bench
Watch a movie…
If I had a bite of the hair o’ the dog what bit me, I’d have to eat my computer. Or my keyboard.
Some things just aren’t edible, even with ketchup.