There is this thing called writer’s block.
There are days when I think I have it but the more I have thought about it while staring at that blank page, it occurs to me it is more likely I cannot put words to my thoughts.
In fact, I have been staring at this page for nearly half an hour.
There are no fewer thoughts of what I might write about going through my head at this time or any other time.
It’s a matter of what words I want to put on the page.
Those thoughts are spread evenly between three different stories I’m working on, this particular blog piece, and two other stories I should be editing.
And thrown into the mix ideas for more stories, fuelled by something I just heard, or read.
Perhaps I should put these aside temporarily and take a more simplistic view.
On this side of the world, it is spring.
It is raining lightly but persistently and when I look outside I’m reminded there are a dozen jobs that need to be done in the garden.
So, perhaps when the rain stops …