Ever had one of those nights when you just can't focus or put your thoughts on paper . . .
It started a few weeks ago; a very bad case of writer's block - unable to think, to be creative as I know I can, and "IT" just wasn't there. After listening to a few words of encouragement and of course those that just said; "forget about writing for awhile," I was at my wits end. Needing to finish two newsletters, update my websites, and work on my manuscript; staying up late became a waste of time.
After many years, I had forsaken a friend, one that got me through those lonely nights, that was there when all my thoughts had dwindled away, a friend that energized my mind and gave me that extra push. So many years had passed; I had to call upon that friend once more - to aide me, guide me in my quest to be as creative as I know that I can be.
Sunday evening, I met my friend. For some reason, my friend smelled a lot different than usual; a scent that my nose had long forgotten. And then it happened, we faced each other; staring with an intense glare along with a slight heartfelt release. We both knew that one day we would be together once more; it was just a matter of time and right circumstances.
I asked my friend to come home with me so that we can get acquainted all over again. My friend sat down beside me as I turned on my laptop and opened my document. I took a deep breath and said "I'm ready to begin."
Ten minutes pass - nothing. Twenty minutes and we still have not bonded like we should have. And then, my fingers begin to flow across the keyboard. What's happening, I thought. Two paragraphs, a short story, a few lines of poetry; I feel it. It's coming back; yes, yes, . . . more, give me more.
Three 0'clock a.m., I leaned back, stared at my friend and said "thank you for being one of the best cups of coffee I've ever had."
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Reviewed by ~ Holly Harbridge
9/26/2007
Good for you...good friends are SOooooooo important. Pesonally, I have never suffered from writers block. Do not understand. My mind is a whirlwind full of ideas ... it never stops and somethimes I think I'll go crazy, but that's the way God made me. I suffer from insomnia...too much going on in the head all the time. Blessings, Holly
This is not a drill. The attack on Pearl. They were the ghost planes of the night, deadly, illusive, sharp-clawed Black Cats. The Memoirs of ARM H.P. Lawrence, a Pearl Harbor survivor, Black Cat, and decorated war veteran.
She never felt safe at home as a young girl, and didn't understand why when she finally escaped she wasn't safe in the big wide world either ...effectively jumping out of the frying pan into the fire!
