Radio Silence

It’s been nearly three weeks since my last post. Sounds like the start of an AA confession, doesn’t it? In a way, it is.

I have several reasons, er, excuses, for my silence.

  • Thanksgiving
  • Christmas decorating
  • My husband’s surprise birthday party
  • Christmas cards
  • Christmas shopping
  • Check, check, check, check. Not the last one. I finished my shopping before Halloween.

    But there is a real-er reason. WRITER’S BLOCK.

    I couldn’t write a thing for those weeks. Not the Christmas letter. Not a word of revision in a novel. Not a blog entry. NOTHING.

    Then I confessed the block to Edna Whittier, a fellow writer. She gave me a kick in the pants. The next morning, writer’s block was gone.

    Snapped off the Christmas letter. Wrote a near-final essay for NPR. And am now digging into Max 1 (again! Sigh) to fix the problems an agent was kind enough to point out.

    And I’m working through the reading slush pile as well.


    2 thoughts on “Radio Silence

    1. I totally agree. There is an old joke that turns out to be true.

      A writer sits at his typewriter (I said it was an old joke) and can't write a word. Finally, he types in The. He sits for a while longer, then finishes the sentence: hell with it.


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