Some of the greatest writers say, write everyday. It's great advice but so hard to follow most of the time. Right now I find myself staring at a blank page and wondering what the hell is supposed to happen next. And then slowly, one word at a time starts to fill the page. Sometimes there is no path, no final goal. A word turns into a sentence, a sentence into a paragraph, a paragraph into a page and
another and another until there are so many pages you don't know what to do with them.
I have thirteen pages of an essay. I've been trying to rewrite for a few weeks now. I was focused and ready to tackle anything. But then, I don't know what happened. I stalled. In my head I was still working on it, but physically not so much. And really, what difference does thinking about it do, it doesn't get the story written now does it. I actually have a few stories like that at the moment. Good starts and then the peter out like a candle at the end of it's wick. Only in my case, it's not finished like the damned candle.
Granted, summer is a bad time to try and accomplish anything. At least that's what other writers tell me. And I guess it's a good excuse and sure, life gets hectic in the summer when you have kids out of school and plans for fun family vacations in the sun. But what is my excuse? I don't have a child in school. She's home all the time and it will remain that way for the next couple of years. So my summers are know different than the rest of the year except for more sun and opportunities to get outside and do stuff.
I can't say I have writers block because I have tons of stuff to work on. And even though right at this moment I am actually writing, I am only writing what comes into my head at the moment. And I am wasting time when there is stuff I should be working on. I have a couple of deadlines approaching and really have to get my ass in gear and get it done.
So, now that I have rambled and said hardly anything, in fact nothing, brilliant or noteworthy, I will say adios and go work on my essay.