I always thought writer's block was a mental problem: you couldn't think of a sentence. You couldn't think of a title. You were afraid to fail. You were afraid to succeed.
Now I think of writer's block more in terms of life management skills. The lack of.
If I wasn't in charge of laundry for five people, if I wasn't in charge of cooking, shopping, cleaning, organizing, chauffering, disciplining, supervising, loving, tucking in and spanking five people. If I wasn't committed to translating a 500-plus page book. If I didn't have to get out into the sunshine when the weather calls. If I didn't have to sleep.
So it goes-- so life goes, and one wonders how any book writing ever takes place on this earth with so many tasks in the way!
But I have a dream. The dream is of a book that I don't want to give away, yet. It is whimsical, hopeful, child-like and love-promoting. It's empathetic, interesting, and biting. It's got colorful men and vibrant women and delightful children and terrifying deserts and beautiful forests and little red shacks and high haunted castles and fast moving rivers and vast, icy oceans and deep, black lakes and cold, stormy nights and sweet lullabyes in it. I wonder if it will ever be completed.
I wonder if it will ever be started.
I have to wipe down counters and unload the dishwasher and make minestrone and feed the baby lunch and pick up the other kids from school now.
And so it goes!
Now I think of writer's block more in terms of life management skills. The lack of.
If I wasn't in charge of laundry for five people, if I wasn't in charge of cooking, shopping, cleaning, organizing, chauffering, disciplining, supervising, loving, tucking in and spanking five people. If I wasn't committed to translating a 500-plus page book. If I didn't have to get out into the sunshine when the weather calls. If I didn't have to sleep.
So it goes-- so life goes, and one wonders how any book writing ever takes place on this earth with so many tasks in the way!
But I have a dream. The dream is of a book that I don't want to give away, yet. It is whimsical, hopeful, child-like and love-promoting. It's empathetic, interesting, and biting. It's got colorful men and vibrant women and delightful children and terrifying deserts and beautiful forests and little red shacks and high haunted castles and fast moving rivers and vast, icy oceans and deep, black lakes and cold, stormy nights and sweet lullabyes in it. I wonder if it will ever be completed.
I wonder if it will ever be started.
I have to wipe down counters and unload the dishwasher and make minestrone and feed the baby lunch and pick up the other kids from school now.
And so it goes!
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