Written by Margarita Morgan
August 6, 2014
I can’t really say that I’ve experienced writer’s block recently. Since I don’t depend on my writing, there is no pressure for me to come up with compositions and so I write everyday regardless. I’m a lazy person by nature and always try to make my work easier so you could say that sometimes my writing is compelling and many others is just grammatically adequate. The funny thing is that the pieces I’ve thought were really good turn out to be ignored while the entries I write in a hurry turn out to be the most popular.
I’m always baffled about the response I get from my blog posts. Recently I’ve been getting feedback from people that take the time to write long comments about an old and forgotten topic. I guess that is when a mini writer’s block attack surfaces to prevent me from replying a coherent thought because I hardly remember what my inspiration was on the subject.
Going back to read old entries I can tell when I was being lazy and wrote grammatically correct sentences in a row but have very little relation between them, the entire post sounds random and uninteresting. I feel a little embarrassed because when I reread this topics I’m usually inspired to rewrite the whole thing. Thankfully my lazy nature holds me back and it even prevents me from experiencing guilt about it.
I just had a long comment the other day about one of my beloved posts. The subject matter is dear to me, but I was struck with a. . . I’m just going to call it a buffering pause because I did have inspiration and willingness to answer yet, there was a sense of incredulity that prevented me from elaborating on my subject without sounding like a total nut. I ended up making a politically correct statement, in this case I feel like I’m just an inadequate writer.
When I hear about writers block, there is an image in my head that depicts people who experience it in very painful and frustrating episodes of epic proportions where they go and break furniture, throw dishes at the walls or have hysterical fits of emotion while they run around screaming at the top of their lungs. Maybe that’s why I think writer’s block hasn’t affected me yet. It may be as simple as the blank stare I give to the screen in my computer every morning before I force my index fingers to begin typing. In that case, I may be a chronic writer’s block sufferer, but all is well since I have a lazy streak that protects my psyche from epic displays of frustration,