I go back to work today after a week off. I accomplished almost nothing in that time. I wrote one short-story, one piece of flash fiction, and about a third of another story.
I wish I knew what was blocking me so badly. I’ve barely been able to write since I finished my sorority girl novella over a month ago.
If you’re interested in helping me get the lead out, why not commission a custom story? It might get my creative juices flowing, and you might get more than you asked for.
Oh, and I didn’t even do anything fun with my time off. I went to the Van Gogh exhibit, and that was okay, I guess, but it was really more for my mother than for me. Nothing fun and/or sexy happened. I didn’t see any of my friends who live in the area (I was going to see one but the weather intervened). I mostly just stared at a blank screen and hoped something would happen.
Writer’s block tends to add pressure upon pressure upon pressure — if you can’t write today, then you won’t be able to write tomorrow, and you’ll have the pressure of yesterday on top of the pressure of today, and so on, and so on. I have over a month of pressure on me at this point, and it sucks. The vacation was supposed to help clear that up, but… nah. Unfortunately.