Ahhh! The tortured writer. Tortured in thoughts. Words that taunt. Phrases which elude. Plot which plods. Characters I don’t care about.

When will it end? Perhaps when I end this tortuous session.

We’ve all had them – those unproductive sessions when nothing flows right and everything sounds exactly wrong.

That was me this afternoon. I did manage to squeak out 1000 words, which is better than nothing.

Or is it?

It was one of those days that I question the assumption of being a writer. Everything sounded so bland and stale. Those words keep ringing in my ear. What words? “Every novelist only has one novel.” No, it can’t be. Am I re-writing my old novel or borrowing plot or characterization. Is my voice in this one even distinguishable.

Help, where will it end?

Get a grip, writer! You know how things work.

One day your fingers are magical, the next day they feel like lead. One day your thoughts flow like the amazon, cascading down a myriad of waterfalls – invigorating, cleansing, inspiring. The next day you are a stagnant pond covered with green crud.

Today I was the crud.

But don’t give up hope just yet. Perhaps something will grow out of the crud. It might even be beautiful.

Never give up.

Push, renew, re-write, and try again.

Okay, charge forward, indie author. One session or a thousand in the crud will not hold you down. Remember the past, use it for the future.

If the time is not now, it will be soon because just as long as you continue to put those lead fingers to the keys, there’s always hope.

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