But it’s not.
See, I don’t get writer’s block.
That’s not bragging. It’s just true. When I started writing seriously–and telling people that I was writing seriously–I immediately found myself confronted by that dreaded question everyone asks writers: Where do you get your ideas? To quote Neil Gaiman’s answer to the persistant question: “I make them up. Out of my head. ” Ideas are never the problem.
See, I daydream.
Ok, everyone daydreams. Not doing so probably means you’re dead. Or asleep having real dreams. But I daydream a lot. And I pay attention to them. Maybe it’s a consequence of being socially awkward. Maybe it’s a consequence of the monotony of life. Maybe it’s the way we’re born–either dreamers or not.
The point is, having things to write is never the problem.
The problem is there are just too many things to write about.
That’s not bragging either. It’s just true. I have ideas. All the time. I know exactly what to write.
On 6 different chapters.
On 3 major projects.
On 2 minor projects.
On my blog.
And it goes on.
And when that’s all rattling around in my head, I usually end up staring blankly at the screen, frozen, unable to decide what to do first. Sometimes I go make tea, because I might as well be caffeinated if I have a lot to do. Sometimes I end up at Twitter, because I might as well keep up with people who are doing things in the world if I can’t can’t manage to do anything. Sometimes I end up in the shower, because I might as well be clean if I’m not living up to the writer stereotype of typing away madly and forgetting hygiene and food and the world.
And it goes on.
All in all, the days when I have ideas are the days when nothing gets done.
Please, send me some writer’s block so I can get some work done!
Oh, and I couldn’t think of a picture to go with this post so I used a picture of a monkey. You’re welcome.