Anyone who has followed my blogging career would laugh at the notion that I’m ever afflicted with Writer’s Block. After all, there are 220 posts here on Roamin’ Gnomials, and another 49 unique posts on my alternate site, A Year in the Death of One Man, so really, how bad could it be?
But anyone who’s been keeping score knows it’s been awhile since I posted anything, and let me tell you, it’s not because I haven’t wanted to, but because I’m hopelessly blocked. There doesn’t seem to be anything I can do about it either, and the experience is driving me batshit crazy!
During my long sojourn through this Writing Wasteland, I’ve looked for advice on how to cope:
- Nothing is worse than a blank page. Just start writing, and soon you’ll be back in the flow! Hogwash, I say. When every idea I come up with sucks, a blank page looks far, far better!
- Don’t fight it. Use this time to recharge your batteries, knowing that when the time is right, you’ll be able to write again! Easy for you to say, you’re not 60 years old like me! My batteries are already depleted, and waiting around for them to recharge might prove fatal!
- Read, read, read for inspiration! Bullcrap! While a lot of you have indeed written beautifully and inspirationally during my absence, seeing your words is just a reminder of how much I suck, and it’s not helping! It’s like that quicksand scene from “Lawrence of Arabia,” but with Überblogger Victo Dolore trying to throw me a lifeline that I can’t quite reach.
You know what Writer’s Block really is? It’s a dose of reality. When you’re not suffering from the disease, you can delude yourself into believing that others are actually interested in what you have to say. But once you’re infected, it’s like a cold slap in the face, because you see the truth that no idea is good enough!
For instance, I had the bright idea that I could write about the first apples of the season at my local farm, but thanks to Writer’s Block, I soon realized the truth, which is that anyone can go to their local grocery store and see about a bazillion apples, so there’s absolutely nothing special or interesting about mine.
I thought I could write about my son and his family moving back to the East Coast, but I decided that millions of people move into new digs every day of the week, and writing about my son’s move would be incredibly boring to my readers, who don’t know Aaron from Adam.
Then I thought I could write about my new ghost bride. Now there’s a topic that under normal circumstances might have produced a spirited blog post that would have been just as creepy as it was funny. But no, even though I snapped the pictures, once I sat down to write, Writer’s Block told me the truth, which is that early September is way too early to be posting about Halloween decorations, and nobody would care.
My situation is desperate, and there doesn’t seem to be any cure. All I have left is my old standby, the gnomes, but the sad truth is that if you’re depending on those ruthless little ankle-biters to save you, then you might as well go ahead and admit it’s a lost cause, and that Writer’s Block is enough to drive you batshit crazy!