An Inconvenient Time

imgresOne of the things I hate most about being a writer is the defeated feeling you get after the inspiration to write passes.

There’s a sliver of time when the desire to write and the passion to write something meaningful merge–and that time is generally when I’m driving or on the verge of falling asleep. Either way, it always seems to be an inconvenient time.

What really kinks my groove is that every time I fall into that sweet spot, my mind is so flooded by thoughts and endorphins that I can’t concentrate. My brain cramps. My page ends up blank.

As a journalist I struggled with this all the time. I’d get a juicy scoop and be dying to get to my desk to write. I’d toss my notebook and pen onto my desk, turn on my computer and pull up a blank file–then suddenly need a cup of coffee.

Back to my desk–and needing to make a pit stop. Back to desk–snack attack. Back–same empty page and a story so good I must share it with my fellow newsies.

I think this phenomenon is known as writer’s block. I have a case of it right now. There are candles burning, breathing the essence of vanilla and maple into the room. The air is cool and a roast is in the slow cooker. The dog is silent, sleeping somewhere out of my sight. Football is on.

And still…babble on a blog is all I can crank out tonight.

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