I am in bed recovering from surgery and bored out of my mind.
The wasteland of daytime television stretches out before me endlessly it seems.
“I could be working on my play.” I say to myself hopefully.
As I open the lap top I listen for an engaged response from deep within–
some murmurings of eagerness or zest–a shimmer of enthusiasm perhaps.
But all I get is a weak whimper and a shudder of shame.
I realize that somehow my inner prosecutor– modelled after Hamilton Burger–
you might know him from Perry Mason re-runs–has now taken over my mind.
He is addressing the judge and jury that lives in my head.
They are the folks behind the Salem Witch Trials and the Spanish Inquisition.
“Ladies and Gentleman this woman has no discernible talent–no imagination and no original ideas.
She is guilty of the crime of self delusion! How dare she call herself a writer?
Send her back to her jail cell and sentence her to watch endless reruns of Perry Mason.”
Well–ok– that didn’t happen. Actually instead of writing my play
I wrote the above silliness. Please forgive me. Tee hee.
But truth is, I have been struggling with, if not, a full blown writer’s block,
a fairly serious writer’s delay.
All the roads in my imagination seem to be closed,
and I can’t get to where I want to go.
It is time I dig out my list of magic cures for this pesky nuisance,
and get myself back on the road. I have faced this before. I can do it again.
This coming week I will be posting my favourite creative cures so stay tuned.
Feel free to use any of these cures for whatever creative ailments you are suffering with.
Perry Mason is not on right now so it’s back to the Storage Wars Marathon. I just loves Barry Weiss.
