Writer's Slump

The Writer Slump has caught up with me.

I'd thought I'd evaded it...sneaking into my office during the toddler's nap time, arms full of snack food, ready to hit the keyboards. But no. It found me. Instead of typing, I sat berating myself, wondering whatever possessed me to begin this fool novel in the first place. I felt talentless. Dull. And then I thought: maybe I simply needed a new pair of shoes to cheer me up.

An hour later I'd found a pair of boots I loved yet couldn't afford, read my spam emails, and knew which celebrity wore what horrible ensemble out in public, but no new sentences graced my word document.

And then I realized I had dishes to do.

Computer went off. Dishwasher went on. I'd work on my novel later. End of story...right?

But it's not, because I still can't seem to become motivated enough to write anything. Even as I punch away at the keyboard this very moment, I'm looking at the clock going, "When will I end this tiresome tirade? Why can't I stop writing about this horrible writing slump I'm in?" Which is actually kind of ironic, don't you think?

("Yeah, I really do think," I say to all the Alanis Morissette fans out there.)

Anyhow, I'm certain at some point I'll want to continue writing. Perhaps some encouragement will come my way, or a friend will take me aside and slap me silly, telling me to get back in the ring and fight.

Until then, the Writer Slump has got me good. I guess I'll take this time to get some housework done. Answer emails. Maybe find a pair of boots I can afford.