I’ve literally sat here for five minutes looking at that blinking, black line trying to decide what I should write about today.
I don’t work from prompts 99.78% of the time, and my dear readers almost never have suggestions (whether or not that’s because they want organic writing or not, I’ll never know). So I sit and wallow for a while as I try to decide what should pour from my insides and lay out on the table in hopes that it will sound interesting and be thought-provoking.
But tonight, all I can seem to dwell on is how I don’t have anything to write about today. It feels like more than just a roadblock in my writing, though; it feels more encompassing. Which is quite the tragedy considering that it’s only day 7. But alas, it’s happened. Just like it did last year, and the year before that. Perhaps there’s such a thing as the 7-day hump? Like…one must get past the 7th day before they will feel the creative juices freely? I can hope.
But for today, nothing interesting. Nothing thought-provoking. Only an attempt to not let the white page win.
I’ll try again tomorrow.
So until then,