Writer's Block

Guys, I’m supposed to be writing for work right now, to satisfy the anxiety of a looming deadline and life’s expenses, but instead I just keep opening blank documents and staring at them and thinking: “Well, this is it. This is when I’m going to just have to come clean and admit that I have been faking being a professional writer for eight whole years now."

I mean, yeah, I do the writing and I get paid for it from multiple sources who seem to like working with me, but still, I don’t feel like one. Do writers feel like writers? I think they would. I still feel like I want to be a writer, but what would that look like if eight years of getting paid for it isn’t enough? I have to pay taxes, shouldn't that count?

 I guess actually doing the writing instead of dramatizing the process would be a good start.

 Yesterday I couldn’t do it either; in fact, I polished 3 years of verdigris off of a copper top table while thinking about it instead. And right now I can’t. I can write a piece about how I can’t write that piece but in this dramatic moment of self-doubt, I am positive that this loss of creativity is forever now, like hiccups or the Kardashians.

That’s the hard part of doing what you love for a living, especially since creativity is a fickle bitch and panic is my muse. I know for a fact that I will get it done and I will obsess over it at all costs until I am satisfied with the end result and for that one fleeting second, I will feel like a writer again.

I know that after I publish this and check Facebook and wander around the house, I will commit to writing an intro, outline and rough conclusion and things will seem less impossible with every word put to (virtual) paper, and I will gain some momentum and it will be finished with some time to spare for doubting everything/editing before sending it off to my editor Monday.

I’ve even done the research, so I’m like a quarter of the way there already. I’m actually ahead of the game, as long as my creativity didn’t sneak off to die in a fire like I suspect.

 The everyday angst of writing is bumpy and I’m thinking about a career change to be a mermaid at Weeki Wachee Springs instead, but I haven’t looked into the logistics of that yet.

I might do that right before I get started on this article.