By Ali Cross
Sunday came and my blog was due the next day. But I didn’t have a single idea of what I should write. So I sat, hands poised above the keyboard, and searched my heart and mind for inspiration.
Sometimes you finally carve out a moment of time and happily head to your computer ready to take that time to write. Ahh, relief! Joy! Writing time!
Except you find that your muse has taken a holiday and you’re left alone, and shockingly without a single bit of inspiration.
The minutes tick by and sweat beads on your brow. You can feel the time slipping by and the lack of words on the page feels less like an invitation and more like a slap in the face. What in the world made you think you could write in the first place? It was presumptuous of you to think you could write, again. It was a fluke, a marvel, never again to be repeated.
And then you start to type. Slowly at first, directionless, you let your thoughts flow onto the page, your fingers flying over the keys. And soon you find you’ve not only filled up your time with writing, but your page is also full.
There is no better cure for writers block than writing. Remember, when you don’t know what to write, write anyway.