I’ve never truly believed in writers block. I always thought of it as an unconscious desire to be doing something else, or thinking something else, so when the dreaded brain-freeze settles in, I generally head off to do something else. Today after staring at a blank screen for far too long, I took myself off and parked my rear on the couch instead of my typist’s chair, mood on the floor, and stared sourly out of the window at the gloomy weather.
Suddenly a loud farting noise caught my attention. I hope that that word doesn’t offend any of my friends, but I’m assuming that my frequent use of the word crap means you’re all fine with occasional small profanities, and “a loud passing of wind sort of noise” didn’t really look right.
There was a skit on television, where an actor wanders around a video store letting off fake ones, and then glaring in shock at whoever he was closest to. Before I could get a grip on myself and walk away from such cheap humour, I was laughing too hard to stop. Needless to say, I watched every other silly con till the programme ended, and now I’m feeling rather inspired, aching jaw notwithstanding, and banging away at the old keyboard again.
Could be I’ve just discovered a cure for writers block. Prune juice for the brain, all you writers out there. Go and watch clips of people falling off bicycles and you’ll be right as rain in no time. I’m not sure what it is with laughter. Even when we laugh inappropriately it always feels good afterwards, regardless of whether it’s accompanied by eye-watering embarrassment, and a terrifying inability to stop – at least until the poor guy who fell down a man-hole and broke his arm is taken off to hospital.
And let’s not get started on the typos. Till next time friends. xxxxx