Have you ever noticed how much crap is out there on these here internets? Oh my Lord, so so so much crap.
But every once in a while, the crap is fantastic. Or dare I say, CRAPtastic.
I recently saw this post somewhere on some … page … somewhere …. about the worst things ever. One of them was a house centipede. You know what I am talking about, right? The bug with 1,000 legs? Moves faster than any naturally occurring creature should ever be able to move without an injection of some sort of nuclear power by-product. You see it, you grab a shoe, it is gone. And all you know now is that it is there. Somewhere. In your house.
I saw that on this list of awful things and thought — icky. Then, that night, there was one in my room. I picked up a shoe to smash it, and it was gone. An hour later it was crawling up the wall. So of course I woke up Jim to kill it. The next night — another one. The next day — A THIRD. That one was in the bathroom, and I was neekid. No shoes around! Ick. It is like that internet post created those evil bastards IN MY HOUSE. They really are one of the worst things ever, and that is the truth.
Which inspired me to think of other truths.
Truth — I have writer’s block. It is a real condition, but most people only associate it with famous writers like F. Scott Fitzgerald, as if it is really only a first-world problem for the writing elite. I mean, seriously, between all the craptastic stuff out there on the internet, and in print, and in e-print or whatever you would call stuff that you can only get on an electronic device, there is SO MUCH CRAP available. It makes the idea of writer’s block seem ridiculous, because the wealth of what is out there is so immense that there is never nothing to read.
These days, everyone is reading some idiotic porn book called 50 Shades of Gray. I read an excerpt. Holy crap is it bad. They keep calling it “mommy porn” and all I can think is, why don’t these women just watch porn? You can get it for free. But my real irritation comes with the fact that someone wrote a fan fiction trilogy (read — she didn’t even come up with the idea herself, she just stole the Twilight story, added a few throbbing appendages and BAM … mommy porn) which is embarrassingly bad, and half the women in the country have decided to pick it up, read it, and covet the hell out of the characters. Meanwhile, I have writer’s block.
NOT. FAIR. Seriously ladies, just go have sex with your husbands.
My writer’s block has gotten in the way of a lot of things. It does not help that I write for a newspaper. I am getting my copy written, but it sucks. And I am pushing the deadline every week, because I cannot think of how to start a story. Headlines alone are killing me. I think I have struggled on my by-line, for Pete’s sake. I am lost in a sea of “what the hell am I doing.” I think it is fair to say that every story I have written in the past month has been half-assed. But it is not because I am half-assing my work. It is because I am blocked.
It sounds really stupid, but when your outlet for “creativity” is writing, and you cannot write, or write well, it’s fairly maddening. Even the stupid post about the awful things — I could have written that. But I didn’t. Because I have writer’s block. I have writer’s block so bad, I am struggling to write a blog post about writer’s block.
I think I need a vacation. A week in the sun. I am frustrated. I am writing poorly. I am working poorly. I am not winning any awards any time soon.
There is a saying that applies to how some people make it though really tough times — Fake it until you make it. I think I need to take this approach. I need to bust through my writer’s block by writing like a crazy person. I need to try to work on this here blog every day.
So I am apologizing in advance. The next month (or months but Lord I seriously hope not), this blog will be disorganized, idiotic dribble, as I try to work through this blockage. I think I need to write it, and put it out there. Even when what I write is crap. Because let’s face it, it won’t be the only craptastic crap on the internet.