BLOG #22 WRITER'S BLOCK

  Writer’s block

It was bound to happen dear readers.  I have been feeling a heavy cloud on the horizon looming closer and closer- a heavy oppressive gloom engulfing me like a shroud. I speak dear readers about that inevitable attack on writers that is impossible to avoid.  I speak of course of that frightful plague called “THE WRITER’S BLOCK. Yes it has finally happened. I sit here staring at a blank page, my fingers flexed in the time-honoured typist position, and nothing happens. It feels like my fingers are buried in muck-like mud resembling prairie gumbo, and I am unable to move them.  I wonder what my writer mentors- Earnest Hemmingway, Kurt Vonnegut, Günter Grass would do in this situation. Do they tear their hair in despair, drown themselves in Whiskey until blackout or go on a rampage?  You will notice that my mentors in this case are all male. I have no doubt about this. This is not what happens to female writers. There is no way Jane Austin would ever have suffered from “writer’s block”. NO- Jane would have calmly hidden her manuscript behind the clock on the mantelpiece, smiled brightly and have gone into the kitchen and washed the dishes or mended the socks. Not for her the luxury of writer’s block and despair. This is the prerogative of male writers, and obviously, me. So what shall I do? Shall I follow in the footsteps of my male writer mentors and cause a riot or shall I follow my dear female writer mentor Jane Austin?  I think neither. I think instead I will go and paint my toenails a glorious bright blue and bask in the sun. I am so-oo glad I am a woman!  So dear readers don’t fret, I will not despair, drown my sorrows in whiskey or spend a week in an opium den! I will do the sane female thing of beautifying and adorning myself and let the writer’s block take care of itself and so I bid you goodnight until happier times.