Ever have one of those days when the blank page in front of you takes on the form of an evil sneer that mocks you because of all the barren thought bubbles drifting aimlessly above your head? Every writer knows exactly what I’m talking about. Many of them are nodding their empty heads right now.
We writers want to write with the same intensity that you want to eat that big mother of a chocolate fudge sundae with whipped cream, peanuts, and a cherry on top. But sometimes our brains refuse to cooperate with our fingers, which hover and twitch above the keyboard like a row of benched kids with ADD. Those ten fingers ache to dance across those keys the minute the brain releases anything remotely intelligent. But every so often the well up there is drier than the Atacama Desert.
It hurts. It makes us grind our teeth and sometimes even bang our heads against walls. Is it any wonder that most writers are just a little bit (or maybe a lot) borderline insane?
The topic reminds me of a poem I wrote during a time when the Atacama Desert was having some rainfall:
A DAY IN THE LIFE OF THIS WRITER
I slouch before my PC screen.
New Word doc there.
So bare. So clean.
I itch to write a simple line,
But not a thought will come to mind.
I usually have too much to say.
Damn brain. It’s shooting blanks today.
My need to write’s a gnawing ache.
Grey matter, please!
It’s time to wake.
O woe is me! I think I’ll try
To spark things with a nip of rye.
Alas! She’s back—O heav’nly brain!
Back in the saddle, I am again.
Thoughts aflame. Hair’s on fire.
I’m higher than a frequent flyer.
Of this writing life, I’ll never tire.
On that note, I would like to end this post by stating that the day I get tired of the writing life is the day that hell will freeze over!
Wait a minute…it did freeze over last winter in most of Ontario didn’t it? Remember what it looked like outside at this time last year? So pretty on branches. Not so pretty on power lines.
Here are some visual reminders.