The Flow

The hardest part of being a writer is staring at the blank screen with a blinking cursor, with intense desire to write something, and not knowing what to write. I experience it right now.

So, at last, I did start writing. But what am I writing? I should be writing a chapter for my book, but I am writing about… err.. writing. Not even writing, difficulties that writers experience.

I have yet to write a post for my blog by today. I thought I could complete a chapter for my book in these two days. It’s late afternoon, and I haven’t come up with an idea for my book chapter or blog post.

The flow is taking me elsewhere, forcing me to think about myself rather than what I should have been thinking about. This feeling is weird. Why am I even writing this? What am I going to do with this? I have written four paragraphs and didn’t know about it.

And, why’re you reading this? Is this so interesting that you’re still reading? I just realized I wrote a post long enough and interesting enough for being posted on my blog. This isn’t a post, it’s an… excuse. ;)