Sometimes life is complicated. I think I could end this post right there and my point would be proven, but since I’m a writer and tend to divert myself onto many sundry and verbose topics, I think I’ll keep going. Our brains are like any other muscle. When we work them all day long, worrying about bills, kids, food, life, student loan payments, relationship do’s and dont’s (not to mention the normal insecurities that plague most writers on a daily basis already), our brains are pretty tired and fried by the time we get around to writing something. Our creativity is inhibited when the only thing we can thing about is sleep, or how much other stuff is going on each and every day.
But we need to write.
What do we do? We’ve got to meet those deadlines, whether real or imagined. We need to write.
And so we write anyway. We sit our butts in the chair (or in my case, lay in bed half propped up on a pillow) and we start putting words on a page. Writer’s block is simply a name writer’s give as an excuse for not writing. If we just put fingers to keys on the keyboard or pen to paper, you’d be amazed at what can come out.
So what do we do when we don’t know what to write about? We smile, and write anyway.