Writers Block: A Writer's Companion
Aligning my fingers on the keyboard, I stare at the blank screen. Immediately, the devilish imp appears on my shoulder, whispering words of self doubt and loathing.
Cloaked in darkness, wearing a menacing grin and a fresh pair of white Etnies, he regales me with his latest insults and criticisms. His voice reverberates in my head. My fingers hesitate on the keys. My old friend Writer’s Block rears his ugly head.
Swatting him away like a pestering fly, I begin. The story flows from my imagination through my spine into my fingers, down through the keys and onto the screen.
A smile forms on my lips, success is near. I have started.
The imp reappears, bouncing around from shoulder to shoulder like a two year old. Trying to satisfy him is like climbing Mt.Everest blind folded with no oxygen.
Each sentence is a struggle as my anti-muse hums his judgments like a well versed ditty.
Resigned to the fact that he will be my constant companion until my work is done, I channel my frustrations into pure positive force, fueling my way through the first draft.
I am a stubborn mule and his insults give me momentum.
Pride settles in my bones as I watch my characters come to life on the page. I am like their heavenly, though sometimes, tyrannical mother. I cheer for them when they succeed and bleed for them when they fail. I hope for them as they struggle. And this hope carries me to the end.
Satisfaction is momentary as my overgrown malevolent imp parades his antipathy for my work. Snatching him by his shoelaces, I heed the words of my hero and toss him into a zip lock baggy, placing him next to the creamsicles in my freezer.
Until next time my nasty little fiend.
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