Every writer knows what this is. The inevitable feeling that there are no
unique ideas in your head. The dreaded
Writer’s Block. I’m currently in such a
place.
I have three different blog posts in various stages of completion
but can’t seem to finish any of them.
It’s just not flowing. It’s not
right. And I can’t get it right.
One is about childhood playthings. Inspired by a song I heard, which immediately
transported me back to the 70’s, I thought it would be a great subject. It’s done.
It should be ready to post. But
it’s just not right. Not just yet. I heard the same song about a week ago and
thought “Hey! That piece needs to go in
a different direction and I know just what to do with it!”, but I didn’t have
time last week to do any writing (retirement is rough, ya’ll.) And now, I don’t remember what direction I
wanted to take it.
Another is about the simile between a fresh coat of paint
and changes in one’s life or starting over or fresh perspectives. As you can see, I really don’t know what it’s
about. We began remodeling our home
about a year ago and just this past weekend, we painted another room. I thought maybe I’d find the inspiration to
finish this post. But nope.
And then, I have one in the works about Keith. Part 3 of my failed marriage trilogy (only …
as you know … this one’s alive and well).
You would think it would be easy, that the words would flow directly onto
the page. But they’re not. It’s not easy. It’s not easy to put into words what this man
means to me. And because it’s ongoing
(and I thank God every day for that!), it’s kinda hard to write just one post
on the subject.
I know I’m not alone in slamming into the proverbial
creative wall. I’m not the first and I
won’t be the last. But damn. It’s hard.
I want to write and I can’t write.
So what am I doing? Writing about
not being able to write!
In Big Magic, Elizabeth
Gilbert (she of Eat, Pray, Love fame)
talks of being inspired. And
creating. And writing. And how creativity leaves you. And returns.
She even talks of an idea leaving her – an idea for a book she had – and
landing in someone else’s head – someone who finished the book years
later. Weird, right? I’m trying fiercely to rely on her words and
be okay with the fact that right now, my ideas and my words have seemingly
escaped me. Heaven forbid, though, that
my thoughts end up in someone else’s head.
Scary.
Why not pick up on one of the half dozen topics I have
written down to someday include in my blog?
Topics I think would be fun. And make for enjoyable reading. Topics that would allow me to create. Because I’m stubborn. That’s why.
Because I want to finish one of the posts I’ve already started. And because of this stupid thing called
Writer’s Block.
I miss my blog. I
miss seeing the bright colors on the home page.
The picture I took in a tea house in China. And the stock picture of the Moroccan Tagines
(thanks Ana for telling me exactly what those brightly colored pots are!). And I miss …. Writing.
Yet, I know it will return.
When I’m not so busy.
When I’m not feeling so pressured … about life and about writing. When the mood hits me just right. When I’ve slept well. Or maybe when I’m exhausted.
It will return. Hopefully
in the not-so-distant future.
