Saturday, May 28, 2005

Bloggers Block

You've heard of writers block, now there's blogger's block. That's right. People are having problems thinking up stuff to say on their blogs. Seems strange to me. Why blog then? It's not like someone is holding a loved one hostage until you blog.

Here's a few ides to jump-start your blog entry.

And here is a site that can help you come up with something to say when you have nothing to say. Creative Writing Prompts. Hmmmmm, let's try this out....

Ah, here's one: Write a story starting with: "They had nothing to say to each other."

Okay, let's see where this goes...

They had nothing to say to each other. They were silent for the duration of the train ride from Penn Station to 34th street. As the train rocked and screeched through the tunnels the third rail made incomplete connections and so the lights flicked on and off. When they flicked off, there was peace, he didn't have to look at her. When they flicked on, tension rose because he had to see her, if only from the corner of his eye. She was irritating to look at, a cocky face and a flick of her hair with each pop of her gum. But what did he care, she didn't, why should he?

But he did care. He did care very much, or at least used to care. But now his heart was torn out of it's aorta. It hurt so much, he couldn't even think about it. That's why he welcomed the darkness. It was like sleeping, he didn't have to think about it. Truth was, he dreamt about her anyway, but those were not pleasant dreams. He was now fully awake, fully aware of his actions. The lights flickered off a little while longer than momentary, enough to end it all, enough to stop the pain. So he did, it was done, it was over.

It took forever to reach 34th Street. But when it did no one was around. A figure left the train but she didn't move when the doors opened. She was asleep, a long, non-waking sleep.

Better to write for yourself and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self. - Cyril Connolly