Sometimes when I try to write, it’s like all of my words have dried up. I can’t express what I want to express. For a writer, this is quite the predicament to be in. I don’t want to write just for the sake of writing – to come up with some profound sounding drivel that actually doesn’t mean anything at all. There’s too much of that floating around the world already. It took me a while to be okay with these kinds of days, when the words just won’t come back. It doesn’t make you a failed writer; it doesn’t mean your creativity is gone. It just means that when the words do start to flow again, they’ll come in droves and bring their friends.
Photo: A page from Leaves of Grass by Ralph Waldo Emerson