I don’t feel driven, and I don’t have a lot of ideas percolating in my head. Sometimes I get into a groove and actually put some words down. Other times I’ll go months without writing out a single thought.
I’m still trying to find a comfortable format–blog? journal? pen and notebook?
I’m still trying to find a schedule–write regularly or just when I feel like it?
I’m still trying to find a genre–poetry? fiction? nonfiction?
Once when I was trying to write something and that blank screen and blinking cursor were kicking my trash, I came up with this little gem:
Words drop dry
from my pen—brittle, grating,
bleached of meaning.
I stare at the cracked pile,
wishing for some feeling rain
to lend a blush,
other than the soundless black
that has ground my eyes to powder.
But all I feel is heat on my neck
and killing blankness.
A little melodramatic, no? But when you are in the throes of writer’s block, adjectives like killing and grating hardly seem potent enough.
I’m currently in a bit of a writing drought, and the Segullah writing retreat is shimmering like an oasis on the horizon. Give some thought to coming, even if you don’t know whether you prefer pens or keyboards, poetry or prose. Even if you have a hot case of writer’s block. We can drink inspiration together.