I'm having a rough night.
It is one of those night where I just want to write my book but it is also day three of writers block. I sit down to write and my mind goes blank.
But I'm also sleepy but I don't want to sleep because I want to write but I can't write what I want to write because I have writers block.
So instead I write poems and short stories that have absolutely nothing to do with my book, including this blog post.
There's just something about putting words down and creating stuff that's absolutely addicting. It's just as equally frustrating when you can't make words! ASDFJKL
Like seriously I know what I want to happen but my brain won't think of words!!!! GRRRR!
Maybe my brain has finally had enough. It has quit. Left the building. POOFED away somewhere. Went on vacation and left me here in New York (NOT the city, upstate. Because New York is more than just a city, there's the rest of the flipping state).
Maybe I will go to sleep. Hopefully I'll fall asleep. Possibly I wont.
And that makes me sad.
Well if you're still reading this post I give you a round of applause because this is crap.
Why does writers block exist? Why must writers be blocked? We don't want to be blocked.
All we want to do is create fabulous worlds and deep motivating stories that make people feel warm and fuzzy and sad and mad and confused and put them in a glass case of emotion and blow holes in our future fans ships. Is that too much to ask for?
I mean come one brain get to work! I need you! Lungs don't get a vacation, and neither does heart or stomach or tongue! Get back to work!