I don’t want to believe that there is such a thing as writers block. Like Bob Mayer says in his book, The Novel Writer’s Toolkit, writing is just like brick laying, you build a wall one brick at a time, and you write a novel, one word at a time. No drama. Just work. Get to it. Writer’s block is just laziness. Writer’s block is for suckers, sissies, and pansies.

I’m a pretty pansy. I might have writer’s block. Because of success. I have a book contract with a publisher. I am a finalist in the RMFW Gold Writer’s Contest. My rejections I get from agents are gushing. The words “obvious talent” are used often. I have obvious talent. I wish I had none. I want to be dragged from my house, tied to a tree, and laughed at for thinking I can be a writer. Rotten tomatoes to the face. Have them all go Middle Ages on me.

Because, deep down, at the very guts of who I am, I despise life. I believe the world is an awful place and death a welcome release from all the misery. I’m a dark-hearted pansy.

And the most precious dream I have, is the dream of writing and being good at it. My brother was an athlete who got all the girls. I was a bookish, chubby kid who could write a pretty cool story, and that was about it. For long days at a time, writing was all that kept me alive. My little, fragile dream of writing successfully.

So you see, success at writing means the world is good, that there are bunnies and kitties and happy butterflies flitting about. It means life is good. And I don’t want that. It shatters the dark, cramped dungeon I’ve made for myself, inside myself. And in the end, I don’t want the freedom.

So I’ve stopped writing, critiquing, showing up. But as a friend of mine said, now is not the time to wuss out. Now is the time to screw my courage to the sticking place, whatever the hell that means. It’s time to be a brick layer, laying bricks, one at a time because life is good. There are bunnies and kitties and happy butterflies flitting about. And I am meant for greater things than being imprisoned in doubts I only half believe.

A quick afterword. My writer’s block lasted three days. Because I have tools, and friends, and with help, I can bash right through anything. Thank all that is Divine.