Monday, April 28, 2008

At A Loss for Words...

Kristine, Carla, Lisa, ...and me.

Writer's block. In my case, it's because I care so darn much about what I'm writing about. I want to do a good job---a great job. Today I plunged in and actually worked for most of the maybe my days of "block" are gone. I surely hope so.

~Picture by LoveHubbie Mark


Rick Hamrick said...

It's something we all experience, this seeming lack of words which comes upon us.

I love Anne Lamott's alternative explanation to the empty well: it simply means we need to put down the pen (or close the laptop) and go out and live. That's what she believes fills the well again: the experiences we come upon, both on purpose and completely by accident, which inspire and get the juices flowing again.

Spring seems to be a time when jumping into the middle of all the new life around us is more enticing than writing about it. At least, it feels that way to me. So, I do. I jump in, and, though I'm writing less, I'm living more. One day, the ratio will flip again, and when that day comes, I'll be writing like crazy.

Kate said...


What Rick said is great. A;lso remember that you need to give yourself permission to write crap too. That can all be edited out and will at least get you writing.

The flower photo is gorgeous!


Olivia said...

What a healthy attitude, and great advice as well, Rick and Kate. I love the balance between your two comments, too---the living your life and at the same time being willing to write crap---I will take this---YES!

Thank you both,


Olivia said...

PS. I really needed both of these today---REALLY!

Carla said...

I'm thankful for your post, your hubbie's *beautiful* photo, and the comments by Rick and Kate. I needed this tonight!

Olivia said...

You're so welcome, Carla. Although our Sacred Life Sundays are "officially" gone, I enjoy the legacy that is left from what you started, as well as your blogs, and of course, your continued visits here. I watch with great interest and caring as you continue on your amazing journey in Spokane. Love, O