I hate dealing with writer's block. After you read this, you will too. Here was what I wrote this week when I had a clean white page in front of me:
Blank page. Blaaaaaaannnnnnkkkk page.
C'mon, now, you've had a million ideas for stories. Surely you can think of one now. What about that one with the guy . . . who orders a coffee . . . and they spell his name wrong on the side of the cup, so he . . . gets mad? Dumps his coffee on the barista? Drinks it anyway?
I need a writing prompt. Perhaps Google can help.
Ah, here's one: The last thing you remember hearing before your friend thrust you out of the plane was: “Don’t forget your parachute!” What happens next? I can work with that. Here we go:
The last thing I remember hearing before Gigi pushed me out of the plane was "Don't forget your parachute!"
"AAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIGGHHHHH!"
Thud.
I don't know. It's not quite working for me. Should that thud be a splat? And where did the name Gigi come from? I used to know a Gigi on the island. Jeez, she has to be, what, in her thirties now? When did she get so old? But that would mean . . . I'm getting—nah. Unthinkable.
Half-blank page. Haaaalf-blaaaaaaannnnnnkkkk page.
Why am I doing this to myself? At what point in my life did I say yes, I'll be a writer, that's a fine idea? Why didn't someone stop me? My mother. This is her fault, fostering my desire to write, encouraging me to keep a journal, buying me my first typewriter, and taking me to meet writers and illustrators at the local library. What a rotten, selfish thing to do. (I'm kidding, Mom. Mom. Please stop crying.)
Here's an interesting article. It says the three most common causes of writer's block are as follows:
Timing—it's simply not the right time to write.
(Oh, waah. It's called a deadline, people. I don't care if it's the "right time" to write or not. If your blog is due Friday, you'd better darn well have that blog done Friday, and don't give me that "it's simply not the right time to write" crap.) (Side note: Wow! I'm kind of a jerky boss. Good thing I'm my only employee.)
Fear—many writers struggle with being afraid of putting their writing (and themselves) out there for everyone to see.
(At various times, I've written about my weight, my love of Double Stuf ™ Oreos, PMS, weird chin hairs, my inability to shave my legs effectively due to a desperate need for bifocals, and cat diarrhea. I'm going to say this fear thing is not my problem.)
Perfectionism—You want everything to be just right.
(Ridiculous. Just because I double-checked with the Chicago Manual of Style and cross-referenced it with Grammar Girl to make sure that above sentence should read "common causes of writer's block" and not "common causes for writer's block" does NOT make me a perfectionist.)
Well, that was no help. I have no idea what my problem is.
I suppose I could start that book about the girl from my first novel, like I've been meaning to do for months. What was her name? Penny? Piggy?
Blank page. Blaaaaaaannnnnnkkkk page.
C'mon, now, you've had a million ideas for stories. Surely you can think of one now. What about that one with the guy . . . who orders a coffee . . . and they spell his name wrong on the side of the cup, so he . . . gets mad? Dumps his coffee on the barista? Drinks it anyway?
I need a writing prompt. Perhaps Google can help.
Ah, here's one: The last thing you remember hearing before your friend thrust you out of the plane was: “Don’t forget your parachute!” What happens next? I can work with that. Here we go:
The last thing I remember hearing before Gigi pushed me out of the plane was "Don't forget your parachute!"
"AAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIGGHHHHH!"
Thud.
I don't know. It's not quite working for me. Should that thud be a splat? And where did the name Gigi come from? I used to know a Gigi on the island. Jeez, she has to be, what, in her thirties now? When did she get so old? But that would mean . . . I'm getting—nah. Unthinkable.
Half-blank page. Haaaalf-blaaaaaaannnnnnkkkk page.
Why am I doing this to myself? At what point in my life did I say yes, I'll be a writer, that's a fine idea? Why didn't someone stop me? My mother. This is her fault, fostering my desire to write, encouraging me to keep a journal, buying me my first typewriter, and taking me to meet writers and illustrators at the local library. What a rotten, selfish thing to do. (I'm kidding, Mom. Mom. Please stop crying.)
Here's an interesting article. It says the three most common causes of writer's block are as follows:
Timing—it's simply not the right time to write.
(Oh, waah. It's called a deadline, people. I don't care if it's the "right time" to write or not. If your blog is due Friday, you'd better darn well have that blog done Friday, and don't give me that "it's simply not the right time to write" crap.) (Side note: Wow! I'm kind of a jerky boss. Good thing I'm my only employee.)
Fear—many writers struggle with being afraid of putting their writing (and themselves) out there for everyone to see.
(At various times, I've written about my weight, my love of Double Stuf ™ Oreos, PMS, weird chin hairs, my inability to shave my legs effectively due to a desperate need for bifocals, and cat diarrhea. I'm going to say this fear thing is not my problem.)
Perfectionism—You want everything to be just right.
(Ridiculous. Just because I double-checked with the Chicago Manual of Style and cross-referenced it with Grammar Girl to make sure that above sentence should read "common causes of writer's block" and not "common causes for writer's block" does NOT make me a perfectionist.)
Well, that was no help. I have no idea what my problem is.
I suppose I could start that book about the girl from my first novel, like I've been meaning to do for months. What was her name? Penny? Piggy?
Hey! Look at that! I've filled a whole page without even trying, really! Now all I have to do is go back, edit out the stuff that's not really pertinent . . . hold on a moment . . . uh oh.
Blank page. Blaaaaaaannnnnnkkkk page.
Blank page. Blaaaaaaannnnnnkkkk page.
I see a proofreading mistake.
RSS Feed