I spent the last few days in something of a creative funk. As you may have noted, earlier I struggled with a small dog named The Universe and discovered that Writer’s Block is a substance that misbehaves by using your best efforts against you. Eventually I gave up trying to formulate a single functional sentence, and instead simply wallowed on the floor surrounded by Nature Valley granola bar wrappers. Also, crumbs, they were there, too. It has been a week filled with tests of my commitment to my craft, doubts about the relative merit of my own narrative voice, and some rather explosive bouts of frustration.
The Value of Stillness
The generally smart thing to do if you happen to be snared in a net–literal or metaphorical–is to stop moving. Struggling tightens the bonds of your prison. So, long about Thursday, I decided to be still. I often note that…
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