Writer's Block

I've had my share of fiddling with paragraphs, changing the sentence, "On the way to the store, he stopped for coffee," to "He was on the way to the store when he stopped for coffee," to "Stopping for coffee on the way to the store, he . . . " to "He really preferred tea when he stopped for something to drink on his way to the store."

This is writer's block. The sentence is immaterial. It's the thought process that has ground to a halt. It's the story that isn't going anywhere (not even to the store). Several months ago Spence Tyack (hero of the moment) was dithering his way to get take-out food. It took him, literally, weeks to get there. Why? Because I had no idea what he was going to do when he got it. Turn around and come home, yes, but THEN WHAT? And he sure wasn't telling me.

Recently Flynn and Sara have spent a week walking from her brownstone to the coffee bar. They're not there yet. Why? Well, in this instance I was waiting for my editor to say yes or no to whether she was comfortable with Flynn's backstory. She is, so presumably we can reach the coffee bar any day now. But we're not there yet.

Ordinarily, when this happens I will keep writing and throwing out. Or I will write something else -- like a genealogical article or review or one of the several things usually hanging fire that needs attention but has been sitting on the back burner. I'm rarely blocked on those.

Now, however, I'm stuck. I have to write this coming week's Male on Monday for the Pink Heart Society blog. This is something I want to do. Trish and Ally say that I begged, pleaded and groveled to do it -- and while I wouldn't quite go that far, I certainly did offer. Strongly. And if I was drooling while I did it, they have politely refrained from mentioning it yet.

But as this guy is pretty much Flynn, just as he was in my head for Spence as well there toward the end, I want to do a good job. This is hard to do when mostly I just want to stare and, um, ogle. I certainly don't want to write. Fortunately my dear friend Lucy Gordon has just sent me a DVD of a recent production which arrived today in which my male on Monday starred. So I can't possibly write until I have done this research, can I? Of course not.

So, I'm off to do research. Then we'll work on getting over the writer's block. And the male on Monday. And if nothing else, by sheer displacement, I'm counting on Flynn and Sara finally getting their cups of coffee.