Everything I wrote sounded stilted. But it happens. When the creative well runs dry, it's not permanent. There's just a little hiccup in the process.
I sat at the computer for an hour, powering through my initial word count before I got up. Then I tossed a load in the washer. Folded what was in the dryer. Parked myself in the chair again and type, type, type.
That half hour produced some of the most uninspiring prose ever written. It was almost as bad as the first hour. The words were so off I was surprised the delete key didn't take control of the whole mess.
During the summer of 2007, our family took a trip to the Southwest. Our ultimate destination was Albuquerque, where our boys would happily sweat their guts out during a four-day football camp organized by Brian Urlacher, now-retired linebacker for the Chicago Bears.
|It's almost practice time. First-aid tent ready and waiting|
"What's wrong with you?" he asked.
Our son rubbed his forehead and related the problem.
Mr. Urlacher patted his shoulder. "Take two Tylenol and get back out there."
I thought of that day as I sat down yesterday for the third attempt at writing something usable. Again, the muses were not being kind. I was convinced that they took the day off. After lunch, I took the day off from writing as well. I knew I'd be back at the desk this morning. And I am.
Sometimes half the battle is just showing up.
Take two Tylenol and get back out there.