I could blame the toothache, the jippy stomach, vodafone or the weather on my lack of progress writing. But I would be kidding all of us. I have Writers Block.
The ultimate disease for a writer; itchier and more irritating than Athletes Foot.
There I said it. I do not feel better for saying it aloud but it is now out there. I have admitted it. Over the past 4 days I have managed 2316 words. 16 are usable.
I also discovered that I was projecting my mood onto my characters, which would fine if it was appropriate for the story but it was not.
For example, today:
- In the middle of a perfectly good Tea Break in “A Hero Would be Nice” my character, a dragon, started questioning the validity of ‘Mondays’.
- On Saturday, Pestilence was unhappy about the finale of Downton Abbey – the only issues being that his story is not set in a world that is showing Downton Abbey, nor has Pestilence ever shown any interest in Period Drama, Drama, TV, entertainment or Lady Edith’s love life.
- On Sunday – Death refused to use a mobile phone because he hated Vodafone. (All of these paragraphs and sentences were, rightfully, deleted – but you get the idea).
I started looking at art and peoples’ doodles, works and short ramblings. That helped. It didn’t inspire anything (my brain knows what I have to write already – it just doesn’t know how to do it) but it did help clear my muddle of chaos slightly.
I watched Netflix – a critical mistake on my part. I watched a mind-numbing drama called 90210 – oh dear. Society…when did it come to this? >shakes head< Oh dear.
Made Mango tea with honey (to try and help my stomach) – It made no difference. (Wouldn’t it be amazing if it did cure Writers Block though? I would be a Millionaire by Tuesday).
I fear I will just have to let it pass. And it will pass. Everything does eventually. It’ll be gone by tomorrow?…right?