After a couple of semi-intense, quasi-inspiring, yet, fully-caffeinated meetings at cafes about a script I am currently working on, I can easily say fairly I am enthusiastic about getting started on my next stage of development.  The year is ending, the next chapter of my life, as I outlined in my 12 month plan, is approaching rapidly, therefore the pressure to finish this chapter is on. Not to mention I am trying this new leaf thing where I’m not spending all day surfing YouTube for hilarious The Ellen Degeneres Show interview snippets and I wake up before 2pm.

So I sit down with my ever so slightly used gel pen and my ever so slightly used airport-purchase steno pad.  And proceed to stare at it’s mocking blue lines for two days.

Yes.  It has happened.  Again.  Writer’s Block.

But how, one might ask.  I have all these ideas whizzing through my head.  Worlds.  Characters.  Themes.  Gags.  Humor.  Emotions.  All of which I’m sure if I could get onto to paper, the world at large (or at least a decent sampling) would be amazed, or at least entertained.  But they all remain there like shoppers trying to get out of the bottle necked Walmart parking lot on Christmas Eve.

A quick Google search turns up hundred of articles similar to this one.  Particular theories on what causes and what could help cure the elusive Writer’s Block.  Mr. Taylor’s causes are as follows:

• Cause 1: Writers are sometimes not ready to write
• Cause 2: Writers are sometimes afraid to write
• Cause 3: Writers often try to compose in their heads
• Cause 4: Writers often start in the wrong place

These “causes” are fairly straight foward.  Don’t get ahead of yourself.  Don’t micro-manage.  Start broad, then narrow.  Take it one step at a time.  You have to walk before you can run.  Doodle before you can draw.  The usual.

Now, if you’ll refer back to my own list of the exciting locked up things in my brain, you’ll notice that the word “Story” does not appear anywhere.  I have worlds and themes and emotions and people all hanging around.  All the ingredients sitting in my pantry but no idea how to put them together to make a damn good soufflé.  Hell,  I don’t know if I could even manage a box of Jiffy at this point.

David Taylor’s silly little advice points are too vague, too 101, and probably too true.

Perhaps I am doing all the wrong things, but it’s how I’m going to get to write things.  And damn it, one day I will have something better and more exciting than a blog post full of useless comments about not writing.

Now to the favorite part of my day.  Lunch.