I wish I could say this was because of a frenzy of writing bliss that I couldn't resist, and that I was furiously typing the next best thing. Nope. It's being furiously frustrated.
I can't follow my own advice and be gentle with myself. I've been going through a lot. I should give myself a break. Nope. I want, I NEED to write, damn it...but like hell if the ideas will flow.
Everyone protests that writers' block isn't real. It's not allowed. If you have it, you're not a writer. You don't deserve to be a writer. You're not a real writer if you simply can't write sometimes. I'm writing right now, but I am not writing what I WANT to write. I am blogging.
Sure, that keeps my fingers nimble and slightly less bruised than banging them against the keyboard to work on the stuff I want to write...but gah...why can't I write what I want?
So, here I am to say that I don't care what other people say. Writers' block is very real to very real writers. And it usually involves blood, sweat and tears and headaches to get through the damn wall.