Hemingway said, "it won't come
anymore."
later--the gun
into the
mouth
not writing is not good
but trying to write
when you can't is
worse
. . . the typewriter is silent
and looks at
me . . .
From "Upon this time" by Charles Bukowski
from THE LAST NIGHT OF THE EARTH POEMS
A few days ago I was blocked. I mean there was nothing coming. I could
barely stand to read the newspaper, about the only thing I could do was
listen to music or watch (yecch!) tv.
I had just finished an assignment that I had to work on over Thanksgiving
and wound up on the Friday morning after.
And then, there is the Election At the End of the Universe.
Last night and this morning I was back to normal. Stuff was just pouring
out and I couldn't write fast enough.
Tired was what I was. I think a lot of writers have the wrong attitude
toward block--we tend to view ourselves as some sort of writing machine, we
turn it on and stuff pops out.
We might start looking at these fallow periods as periods of rest and
gestation. Rather than Toasters or Microwaves popping out stuff on demand,
we might view ourselves as fine ovens, turning out cakes, souffles
breads--fine dishes that cannot be rushed but must be given time to bake
until done.
Chris Hayden
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