Writer's block pretty much conquered, due to my old chum K4 beating me around the head and neck with a baseball bat last night (figuratively, not literally!). So, Ep5 is back underway; Secret Project #1 coming along at warp factor 9, so it's all good.
I hate calling it "writer's block", though. That conjures images of a huge blank space in which I am sat with a typewriter in front of me and utter silence. How bizarre... less cheese before bedtime in future, methinks...
Equally, the so called "writer's block" (or "creational imagery disassociation syndrome", to give it a poncey name (CIDS, not to be confused with KIDS, which is an entirely different way of preventing any writing getting done:P)) could just as easily be down to "burn out"; write too much, too fast too often and sooner or later your "creativity pool" dries up. No amount of poking around in the mud will come up with anything (except maybe a shopping trolley, some dead fish, a single lost wellington boot and a rusty bedstead), and it's merely a point of locking the brain room up, walking away for a bit to watch movies, read, exchange witty banter, etc, and allow time for the reservoir levels to build back up again to a sufficient level.
Well, hopefully, I have topped up my pond, retrieved my key, unlocked the brain room, blown the dust off the typewriter and launched back into it again, after an awkward week of false starts and some uninspiring few pages.
Once more unto the breach, I utter....
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