This writing life has presented some pesky problems for a horse. Daily keyboard tasks have knocked the stuffing out of my leisure pursuits. All those memorable hours once filled with gin rummy tournaments have been replaced with search engine optimized tweeting drills. And here’s another sticky wicket: writer’s block.
Madam cautioned me about this the day I signed on to write a book with her. Since she tends to exaggerate, I just smiled warmly and ignored her cautioning words. Yet, my earlier disregard did not stop her from dropping in this morning to offer a few tips on writer’s block.
“Noah, all it takes is a simple thank-you note to your mother-in-law, or a term paper on downy woodpeckers to set it off,” she declared. “One minute you whip out a pen and prepare to dazzle your readers, and the next minute you hit the editorial cellar.”
That seemed a little harsh.
According to Madam, symptoms vary though always include avoidance tactics. The condition can come on abruptly, as an overpowering urge to get a tattoo, or silently, leaving its victim unable to write anything more than today’s date.
“So what does this writer’s block look like? I queried. “Does it cause hives, or grow like mildew on a budding novelist’s forehead?” I chuckled.
Madam ignored my mold analogy and pressed on.
“Writer’s block has caused me to feel overcome with a sudden yearning to schedule a colonoscopy,” she offered. “One time I found myself inexplicably enrolled in an auto mechanics class, just to avoid writing a press release. And there was the day last fall when I retired to the bedroom to make clothes for the cat,” she sighed. “Each of these occasions lead to a nap followed by supper and an itch to take a quick spin through the house with the Hoover upright.”
Good grief, this was starting to sound bad. It also sounded familiar. Just yesterday Gabe mentioned that I looked plump. I insisted that my stable blanket hugged me like a new pair of Spanx Shapewear because Madam shrank it in the dryer. At least I thought she shrank it in the dryer. On the other hand, I have been squandering countless hours in the kitchen tasting my Pillsbury Bake Off entries. And I can’t even count the number of Louis L’Amour gunslinger novels I’ve finished.
So I asked Madam, “Hypothetically what would you suggest for a handsome and talented author who might possibly be suffering from a tiny spate of writer’s block?”
“Well,” she offered with a faint smile. “That writer could begin to get his groove back by writing an apology note to his Landlord for breaking open the horse treats and making a wholesale mess of the tack room.”
“Hmm… it’s certainly is worth a try,” I replied. “I’ll bet Gabe will find this very helpful.”
“Indeed,” Madam whispered.
It’s been a long time since I’ve had writer’s block … but then, it’s also been a long time since I’ve been electrocuted, and I don’t want to go through that again, either.
The best way to get over writer’s block is to write about writer’s block.
when you get the tatoo “Write Now” on your forehead you know you’re killing time, but productively.
That’s almost as bad as scheduling a colonoscopy!
A colonoscopy might flush out ideas? It does seem extreme though!
Good one! Is it flushing out ideas or fleshing out? Both sound a little painful. 🙂
You bectcha! That’s just what we (ahem, the horse) was up to.
Kathy, that one was meant for you!
I agree. Having writer’s block is no fun! I have wrote on this subject many times.
Yes, even the horse can’t seem to escape from it.
Yup, you’re absolutely right! I like the shaking the dust loose image.
Yelling expletives somehow shakes the dust loose for me. Plus, you feel really stupid doing it, which reminds you of other stupid things, and voila! A cure.