I seem to have a terrible case of the writer's block this evening. I'm trying to do that GD Seward project, right? And I know what my story is, more or less. And I know how I want to go about writing it. But I've just been staring at this stupid one page that I actually have been able to eek out, wondering how the holy flyin' heck I'm going to turn it into three.
There are some days I just straight-up dislike writing. She's a fickle, un-giving biznatch some days. All I ask is for three measly pages. They don't even have to be great. I just want to get them done and written. Then I can go back through them and clean up the bad parts. I can't do much with a blank page, though.
I hate a blank page. It sits there, all white, and mocks me with its empty whiteness. I need to kill it with long strands of black words, but I just can't seem to find them.
Send me good thoughts.
I know what you mean. Writing on demand is a difficult thing to do.
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