You know that special feeling. The one when you sit down to a blank piece of paper with a pen in hand convinced you've got nothing at all to say. So you sit there and stare at it for what feels like an eternity. Maybe you write a few lines about how you have nothing to say, not a damn thing at all for inspiration.
I am pretty sure it was Sinclair Lewis who was the wit that said the trick to writing a novel was staring at the page until drops of blood formed on your forehead and then staring some more.
Some of the hardest days writing are the days where it feels like a chore. Some of the hardest days writing are the days where all you can think of is your grocery list and where the hell did you put your good socks, because you're sick of the ones with the holes in them. Even if you write one line, however, it is still a good day. Because you showed up to make the attempt. And even if you didn't get one line down, you still showed up to make the attempt.
I give myself a minimum of fifteen minutes to try to make something work on paper. If I can't get farther than a few bullet points of ideas, I take a break. Then I try again later, because inspiration may happen while I'm in the middle of washing a ton of dishes. (Because OF COURSE it happens while you're elbows deep in mucky dishwater with a wash rag in hand and your computer charging in the other room!)
It helps me to remember that none of us, not even the EXPERTS!!!1!elventyone really know what we're doing until we're done writing the damn manuscript. And that manuscript isn't actually done until we're finished with all the editing and revisions. So no one knows what in hell is going on in the entire writing process until the manuscript itself magically decides it is finished. It's reassuring to know that we are all THIS GUY:
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