Writer’s Block

Introduction.

  • Scooting your chair forward with conviction does not, unfortunately, release a waterfall of hilarious and revelatory prose. Poopcakes.
  • Scratching your head does nothing but qualify you for a dandruff shampoo commercial.
  • Pacing only increases the risk of tripping over your cat.
  • Staring at the wall only leads to noticing cobwebs and spots you missed while painting.
  • Going to play Words with Friends, getting 60+ points for the word “puked,” and then glancing around and beaming proudly at no one, doesn’t get any juices flowing.
  • Going to play Words with Friends, seeing your opponent got 60+ points on the word “divinity” on HER FIRST MOVE, glancing around and tearing up at no one, also doesn’t get any juices flowing.
  • Swaying and spinning around in your kitchen singing “up, up and away in my beautiful, my beautiful balloooooon!” doesn’t work. But, it does cause dog excitement.
  • Staring blankly at the screen produces nothing, but it DOES help me remember that I turned the iron on over an hour ago and should probably do something about it.
  • Fuck it. I’m writing about writer’s block.

Conclusion.

43 thoughts on “Writer’s Block

  1. want me to send my women over? they’ll give you material in a matter of seconds.

    hang in there buttercup, it’ll come around.

    Go watch some cartoons

  2. That sounds like a very exciting and entertaining day. I don’t know any reason why singing about balloons and getting your dog excited wouldn’t get your creative juices flowing. Maybe write about why dogs get so damn excited at the nothingest of things? Or experiment on the different reactions based on different artists and/or genres. Say, how does he react to you singing Beyonce’s Single Ladies vs. a Garth Brooks Friends in Low Places? Observe and discuss. Go!

  3. OMG! Please let me know what DOES work. I actually blogged yesterday about the damned McD’s drive thru kid saying You’re Welcome instead of Thank You.

    Who’d have thought that below rock bottom is 72 more miles of rock?

  4. I actually cry with joy when my kids do something obnoxious so that I can “use it.” I am even debating posting a conversation my husband and I had that I was typing out as we spoke. I kept trying to lead him into funnier responses. Alas. Alas. Alas.

  5. Ah yes . . . blogging about having nothing to blog about. I’ve been down this dark alley before. Ironically, writing, just writing anything, usually crumbles my writer’s block. Getting sucked into a tumblr-twitter-lolcat wormhole does not.
    Hmm, and now I want to write about Shelly Duvall’s crazy face . . .

  6. I don’t get writer’s block so much as I get brain block. Or clog. Brain clog. Not the dancing kind. Is rambling of the brain a disease? If it’s not, I’m going to invent it and name it after myself.

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