I wrote a thing for a flash fiction challenge. It’s over here. The challenge is here. If you’d like to make an out-of-character comment about the writing or to ask questions about the background please do it on this blog. In-character comments and questions are fine on The Department blog.
I’ve had a couple of people asking when I’m doing the next Eating Disorder post. I’ll try to do one tomorrow but it will probably only be a short one. I’m still trying to get my head round this whole full-time writer thing. I suck at routines but I need them just as much as everyone else. It would probably help if I slept at normal people sleep times.
I have a novel I should be editing. There’s a short story I should be finishing for my other blog. I just saw a fantastic flash fiction challenge here. I should probably start the eating disorder posts I promised a few days ago.
You will notice that I’m not doing any of those. That’s because it feels like someone poured concrete into my brain and now my imagination has set solid. It’s like there are no moving parts in there any more. I’m sitting in front of my computer waiting for words but the words are all trapped in the concrete.
But a writer writes. So here I am writing about something that definitely isn’t writer’s block because it’s not stopping me from writing. I’m writing about how I can’t write. It’s a kind of magic trick. It’s like I’m chiseling words out of the brain concrete using a chisel made of words that are still trapped in the concrete.
All of which leads me to ask once again, “If I’m so clever why ain’t I getting paid?”