Write Around The Block!

I’m there.

I’ve reached that predicament writers face regardless of race, color, creed, sexuality, and creative level. I have writer’s block.

I’d love to blame it on many things, and some of those reasons, I believe, do hold water, but doing that isn’t going to get me anywhere. The point is I have to work through this. But I must tell you that being unable to write is scary.

Writing is something that I have been doing since third grade ever since I finished the Hardy Boy book, “The Secret of The Old Mill.” After reading that book, I decided I wanted to become a writer.

I know that a Hardy Boy book is not often cited as an inspiration for writing, and to this day, I don’t know what it is about that book that got my juices flowing, but it did. And today, “The Secret of The Old Mill” sits on the table beside my bed.

It’s natural, then, that the first story I ever wrote was a Hardy Boy mystery. I couldn’t tell you what it was about, but I remember grabbing my dad’s old Smith and Corona typewriter (Yes, I’m that old) and letting words work their magic. That was when I knew the bug had bitten.

So, here I am, struggling to find that magic again. Maybe if I reread “The Secret Of The Old Mill,” that magic will again find me. But I realize that it’s not what’s in the book that conjures up the spell, but inspiration touching the heart from the book, and I feel that I have gained all the motivation I could from that book long ago.

So it’s the inspiration that I am lacking?

Yes. Right now, the “blocker” has sapped the spigot dry.

I am inspired to write nothing, but maybe there is some inspiration there. Maybe writing about not being able to write is what this point in my writing experience is all about. So let me examine this for what it is.

“I hate it!”

That’s my initial reaction, but let’s scrutinize that mindset. Hate is strongly associated with fear, and fear is the underlying feeling in this state of mind. I’m afraid I’m losing my ability to write!

Writing is more than just a hobby for me. It’s something that I have to do. When I’m not tapping away on a keyboard, I’m frustrated and depressed. It is my creative outlet, and without it, I feel lost.

I let my mind get tangled up in the problems I see and become overwhelmed. Honestly, I get overwhelmed easily, but if I can write, it lays everything out for me in an orderly fashion. I can digest instead of ingest, and there is a difference.

Writing makes me honest. I write for myself and therefore know when I am lying. The blank page holds a mirror up to the mind, and you can’t run away from the reflection that it produces.

Writing makes me wonder about those things that cannot be brushed aside. Thoughts are fleeting, but a string of words is thinking. I have to formulate ideas, and there is no escaping from that.

Writing is an ego boost. I am good at it. It is the one ability I possess that I know I am good at. And in this day and age of divisiveness and non-empathy encouragement, it is my life preserver in a reckless sea.

Besides, who doesn’t need a daily ego boost? We all need reasons to feel good about ourselves; our unique talents fuel the fire. Each of us has something we know we are good at. When we see it, we feel it and then live it.

Writer’s block is an emptiness. We each have a well of creativity we draw from. When that well is empty, we are thirsty. As we know, you can go much further from hunger than thirst. Without something to quench that thirst, we die, and so does creativity.

Creativity is what makes us human. It is laying foot on the greatest of all nations on this earth, the imagination. To create something from nothing is the closest we get to being a god, and we are the god in our world of talents.

I am writing about writer’s block because, right now, it is the only muse I can muster. And since I have to write, IT is something that I have to write about because IT has shut the muse out.

But since I am writing now about this, maybe “Block” is getting ready to leave. I certainly hope so. I know I have stories to tell, scripts to be written, and an imagination to explore.