I’m not going to make this long. And I’m sort of a hypocrite for writing this because somehow I’ve gotten the zeal to rant about this and not write one shit today in any of my started stories.
Honestly, the zeal isn’t there. The past two weeks I set alarms and reminders to write stuff on my Editor Site and I’d done only fifteen hundred (1500) words. Yes, fifteen hundred. Ugh…
What is wrong with me?
Nothing. That’s it. Nothing. Nothing is wrong with me. Maybe there’s some external force over my shoulder saying to write it. Do it. Finish it, witch. But really and truly I don’t want to.
At least not yet.
If I force myself, the writing may just be crappy, or robotic and gray . . .
Writer’s block is the pinhole and I just can’t get the darn string through.
But one of these days . . . One of these dry, musty and hot days when I’m sitting in front of my laptop staring at the few words I’ve written, I’ll lick that damn string and push it through.
For now, I’m examining the pinhole, or what everyone else calls it— brainstorming and plotting weird stuff.
Writer’s block isn’t actually the devil, it’s just your brain telling you to wait on the right time to write.
This is what I’m going with. This will make me sleep better at night. 🙄
Thanks for reading my rant. See ya boo.