The Wall Between a Writer and Their Work

That’s right everyone… it is time. Writers Block. It has set in and I have had many feelings about it. I am talking from “it will work itself out” all the way to “let me just throw my computer out of a moving vehicle and see if that prompts some things”.

There are many times that I can use the prompts to kick my creativity into gear, I can write a random short story to get my mind back in my creative zone, and times where I can draw my way into writing. This time, however, is in no way one of those times. I have tried it all this week after editing the last short story, and all everything has made me want to do is scream. (I would have to drive to the middle of nowhere with the windows up and horror movie scream to feel better, but I don’t have the time or the want to waste gas for that.)

I have turned to reading different genres to pull myself outside the style I am writing. (Just going to insert the “Didn’t work” button here.) I have done workbooks, prompts, and just writing to see what pops out. I have thrown a lot of pages in the trash. I couldn’t even make sense of my own work. This has been occurring for days and my frustration has been growing.

It might have to do with being so focused on my midterms for school and it is pulling my focus, but I felt one little inspiration spark while I was driving. Traffic was terrible and I didn’t pay attention to the song that was on. I wish I would have. Now I need to go through my entire song library to get it back.

One way or another I am going to kick this writers block. I will try everything over and over again until something works. The wall will crumble and my work will just flow together again.

Maybe I should just blog it out whenever I feel this way. This is the most productive writing wise I have felt in a few days. I am going to try a prompt her and see if I can come up with something to kick it out.

The prompt today is…

“The music drifted out of the club like a vibrating pulse. I could feel it in my bones. The night was alive with possibility. I could even imagine myself____”

I could even imagine myself walking to the ocean to touch the water. I could feel the power behind it run through my veins, and I could see myself letting it take control. I shook my head as I made my way down the road. The power was the reason I ran from the shores to begin with. They were all consuming and disastrous on the best of days. They had taken over before and I almost didn’t get myself back.

A chill had settled into my bones from the night air letting me know it was time to either go back in or find my way back to the hotel. This trip was beginning to tear me in two. I wanted to keep being the me I knew now, but it was truly hard to do when the waters called to me. None of my friends could understand the struggle. None of them knew how it felt. I looked one last time into the club and turned to walk away.

After a few minutes of walking aimlessly I could hear the waves roaring at me to touch them. I looked up into the glistening waters and closed my eyes to breathe in the salty air. Before I knew what was happening I was in the water and it surrounded me. It consumed me whole. I didn’t even panic or worry that I wouldn’t find my way back. I didn’t want to. I just wanted to feel the water pulse through me, heart and soul.

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