Token writer's block post

I am aching for an idea. An ephemeral, intangible, and therefore invaluable good. I wish I could say that something, anything has popped into my brain and I have been able to run with it, but this is the only canvas I paint the whole truth on. Betraying this medium with that kind of falsehood would be unpardonable. The problem started out small; I couldn’t think of a good blog post idea. When my scope of writing widened (with thoughts like "why shouldn’t I start a novel?") so did my chasm devoid of thought and inspiration. Three fresh drafts about thinking about nothing are sitting on my hard drive now. Because I thought it was a problem of distractions, I downloaded a free program called FocusWriter that shows no other inch of my screen and doesn’t allow pop ups from other running programs. Turns out, it has been more of a distraction to my homework and other reading endeavors than preventing distractions so I can conceive a noteworthy subject to write about. What can I say, I love new toys more than anything.

For a long time, I thought I didn’t have an idea because couldn’t think of a interesting enough topic, all I could keep thinking about was stories from my own life (few and far between as they are). I read The Help by Kathryn Stockett (I give you all a personal recommendation to read it) and thought “see, that is a good idea, race issues in the south in the 60s”. Then I read the end notes from the author and realized that was her life in the south, in the 60s. So it is okay to write a whole work of fiction based on your life...I hope this is a sample of the helpful hints I’ll learn next semester in my class titled “Writing Fiction”. So I turned my attention into crafting my life into something worth reading, more importantly, something worth writing. My mind is blank. My page remains blank. My social calendar remains blank. Unfortunately, it’s hard to pull a good story out of a complete lack of activity.

I read a book titled I Am Not a Serial Killer by Dan Wells (from Orem, how exciting) yesterday. I didn’t love his style, even after I acknowledged it was a piece of teen fiction. I didn’t love his idea (supernatural serial killer...). I didn’t even love his protagonist but his character moved and breathed and grew and now I’ve placed a hold request for the next book in the series. After I finished it, I thought “obviously Dan Wells didn’t live in small town struck with a string of serial killings that were solved by a 15 year old. Yet he’s stretched it into something, why can’t I do the same?” Answer: I have no idea. Maybe this means when my million dollar idea (or at least a thousand word idea) hits it will be something truly spectacular. Hopefully it means I can get back on the bandwagon of producing something readable once a week for this blog, or I might start getting into real trouble... sans a serial killer, of course.