As a struggling writer among many I have a day job that pays the bills while I pray for the possibility of someone thinking I might be the next big thing. I have no delusions. I doubt I’ll ever get to the point where my name is a well known like Stephen King, but I love writing and I will write until I take my final breath on this earth.
Speaking of writing–what’s that? *insert hysterical laughter here*
Seriously it’s been ages since I wrote more than maybe a paragraph. For me writing has always been relaxing, a way to release my stress from the day to day crazies no matter what job I worked at.
Suddenly I’m beginning to wonder if someone cut the connection between my brain and my hands. I have the words right up there, bouncing around in my skull, using my brain as trampoline, but the little bastards refuse to slide down the chute and to the hands. I’m not sure if that’s what you’d call full fledged writer’s block or not, but I’m still pulling my bloody hair out. Just hand me a lollipop and call my Kojak…after all that’s where I’m headed at the rate I’m going.
I’ve tried everything to crack through; all the little tricks that have worked in the past. I’ve went off for walks, watched a movie, took a nap, long soak in the tub, tried to read…I even broke out my Photoshop & Research-Fu. Nothing seems to work.
To be honest if I don’t start writing soon (whether it is my pro or fun writing) I may begin sprouting claws and fur. Yeah, that’s right I might just become a slavering beast with a taste for human flesh–okay maybe that’s a bit of an overstatement. I’ll not have a human burger for lunch, but I might open my mouth and lose control of my filter. My poor filter is nearly ready to disintegrate into nothing , but dust. Considering what my day job is that’s a really dangerous thing.
So here I am staring at a manuscript which is so close to being finished I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Or is that the train getting ready to run me down? No matter. The words just will not find their way to the keyboard and my skull is getting ready to explode with all the crap stuffed up there.
Well, at least I picked the right season for exploding skulls, blood, and gore. Halloween is on the horizon and George Romero would be proud even if there are no zombies out there to clean the brains off the my wall and laptop. *snorts*
Now back to trying to squeeze those words out. I wasn’t feeling the love so I went out to find some.
Yeah, bald can be sexy–right? *checks out shape of skull in mirror* I might just be able to pull it off. Not as good as Telly, but hey…*shrugs*
Telly always brings the love and the lollipops. *grins*