Writer's block

One kind of writer’s block is two writers left alone together.

“How’s the book coming?”

“Good. How about yours?”

“Good, thanks.”

The conversation thus ended, they look around, study the floor, ceiling or walls, jot down a few notes or doodle.

The other kind of writer’s block is when a writer runs out of steam part way through whatever he’s writing—or worse, loses interest in it.

I get writer’s block now and then. Everything has been going along swimmingly, when one day I find myself at the keyboard, maybe after a meal or a phone call, and my creativity is dead in the water.

Sometimes, I try stacking all the drafts and research material to one side and playing solitaire online for an hour or two. That actually works. But sometimes, I can’t even stand to look at the computer, and I know my brain needs more time and a dramatically different environment in order to reboot.

Some writers, though, have to go an extra mile or two.

I had a friend who was in the middle of a book when writer’s block hit. Nothing worked. Finally, she called me, bought me plane tickets to Florida, picked me up at the airport, apologized that she had something she had to do, gave me an envelope filled with tens and twenties and dropped me off at the Epcot Center, where I spent the rest of the day wandering around.

We talked things through over the next couple days. I don’t remember what I said. But, suddenly, her inner writer kicked in again.

I remember this instance because I had had surgery the day before she called and somehow survived two flights and a day walking the Walt Disney World Resort without bleeding out.