Wherefore Art Thou, Oh Mighty Muse?

There are two words that strike a particular kind of fear in the hearts and minds of all writers ... writer's block. For me, I would liken it to the kind of fear I imagine I would have if I were trapped inside an old house in the middle of nowhere with Norman Bates, Freddy Krueger, Hannibal Lector and Annie Wilkes during a terrible thunderstorm and the tornado sirens were blaring. Yep, I think that analogy is a pretty vivid and accurate description of the level of fear that engulfs me when those two particular words crop up when I haven't been writing as often as I normally do. And you can multiply that level of fear by, oh, like a gazillion when those two words aren't coming from within my own head but from the mouths, or computers as the case may be, of other people. It's one thing for me to wonder on occasion if I've fallen victim to the dreaded and much-feared state of writer's block, but it's another thing altogether for someone else to proclaim that it's the reason why my writing prowess wanes once in a while.

While I deeply appreciate that so many of you look forward to reading my posts each day and am truly sorry for the disappointment you feel when you click on my blog only to discover there's nothing new for you to read, I'd like for you to know that writer's block isn't generally the reason I'm not writing. In fact, when other people attribute my diminished amount of blog postings to writer's block, it makes me a little (or a lot) crazy. Not crazy like "I want to punch you in the face" crazy, but crazy like "I really feel the need to write a post in all caps informing you that I'm not suffering from writer's block" crazy. In fact, most of the time when I stop writing, it's just the opposite ... I have too many things I want to write, so I just don't write at all. And when I say too many things I want to write, what I really mean is too many things I want to write but I'm too chicken to write them because I'm terrified of the repercussions that often accompany me writing something that hits too close to home for some folks or that involves what some consider to be a controversial topic.

In the spirit of being open, honest, real and transparent, however, I must also confess that there are times when my lack of posting to my blog has more to do with the wolf at my window than my fear of any backlash regarding my subject choice or my personal opinions on said topic. When the old wolf guy is so close that I can feel his hot breath on my face, it takes every ounce of strength I have just to keep him outside where he belongs. And I'd be lying through my teeth if I said that the wolf and my fear of painful backlash never join forces to do everything in their power to keep my fingers off of the keyboard. That's the worst, you know ... when those two gang up on me and work double overtime to keep me from writing about things my heart and mind are screaming at me to write. Things like why I've never attended KC's PrideFest ... missing people who don't miss me back ... what I really think about the shooting of the gorilla at the Cincinnati Zoo ... my thoughts on the upcoming presidential election ... whether sleeping underwear-less is healthier ... how deeply it hurts when you realize that you care more about someone than he or she cares about you. 

I don't have writer's block, and it's not my mighty muse who's hiding ... ponder on that for a bit, friends ... ponder on that for a good little bit.

"Make sure your words seep into the skin of the reader, leaving trace minerals that sustain the ailing human shell." --- Susan Marie