I have a confession to make today.
I have serious writer’s block.
It probably has something to do with exams and stress but I just can’t help but take it personally. My work for my creative writing class has become dull and uncreative and when I sit down to write for pleasure, I can’t seem to make the words flow properly. Usually, I can find the perfect words to describe exactly what I’m feeling at a particular moment but lately, I come up dry. My professor comically said that he had a similar problem (probably in the 60s) and he went to the doctor, who prescribed him pills.
“The pills didn’t help, I sat in my bedroom for days and couldn’t stop singing. By the end of the week I could hardly talk, my throat was so sore.”
This anecdote wasn’t very helpful, but he did later ask me if I was “watering my writer’s block”. I’m not too sure what such a thing entails but I’m guessing he wants me to envision my writer’s block as some sort of metaphoric plant that I must learn to work with, perhaps until I can master it. What an interesting metaphor?
I’m hoping to recover from all my stress during winter break. I want to come back to school in January and blow people away with the words that won’t surface just yet. I know I have something to write about, I just haven’t uncovered it.
Be afraid, be very afraid. (You know who you are.)