This is my writing blog, where I will be shamelessly posting my work. Poems, short stories, flash fiction, extracts from novels...they'll all be here. And if you don't like any of that, just play with the tiger.

Wednesday, 19 September 2007

Rhubarb waffle

No, not an interesting new dessert (though a rhubarb waffle does sound tasty) - this is more of a concerned outpouring. My brain is empty. I daresay that the more perceptive among you have already discerned that fact, but at the moment it seems more than usually bleak and echoey. All the shadowy characters, half-glimpsed scenes and snapshots of stories appear to have wandered off, beyond my recall. I know it's almost a writer's duty to whinge about not being able to write, so I won't harp on too much. Indeed, this has happened to me before, but somehow everything comes back when it's ready to and I can write again, but each time there is the nagging fear...what if it's permanent this time?
I can't think about that possibility too much, for fear of descending into a fit of hysterics. There's a flash fiction to be written by Saturday, so maybe cudgelling my brains over that will help to 'restore my natural rhythm', as the constipation adverts say.
In the meantime, I intend to scoot back to my old house to see if I inadvertently left my imagination in the cupboard under the stairs.


Graeme K Talboys said...

It will be tucked away safely, waiting until you are properly settled. Then it will be back. Mojos are like cats. They have a dislike for changes in routine.

Viki Lane said...

That makes sense - thanks, Grum. I wonder if I should have daubed my imagination's paws with butter when we moved?

With thanks to Graeme