If there’s such a thing as writer’s block for me, it’s when I try to write about something I don’t know or something I don’t want to write. I’ve been most successful with opinion pieces and fiction, so blogging should be a piece of cake. Yet, though I pledged to post three times a week, sometimes I come here and I’ve got nothing. (It’s my fear that this fact is apparent to you.)
I’m more than half-way through a novel I hope will be published in 2010 and I’m a bit stuck. I can visualize how the story will end, but can’t seem to get the protagonist moving in that direction. Other writers whose opinions I value, suggest I write the ending and fill in the blanks later. I’m willing to give it a try, though the left side of my brain, that just loves chronological order, has a problem with that.
Though I find it uncomfortable, I have to admit that is the extent of my suffering for my art. I don’t write because of some inner compulsion. I just like to put words on paper and hope someone finds them interesting, or amusing or inspiring. Thank you for reading.