Member-only story
I’m Creatively Spent During This Pandemic
Every writer has been there. You sit down at the keyboard, pristine blank document in front of you and…nothing.
The words won’t come.
But you don’t despair. You take a deep breath. You don’t even believe in writer’s block. So you keep going.
And the words come, eventually.
Inspiration doesn’t strike, the words don’t come rushing in a torrent. Instead, they drip out as if from a leaky tap.
They aren’t good words either.
Sentences are creaky, words poorly chosen. The whole thing feels amateurish.
That’s what been happening to me since the start of the Covid-19 pandemic.
My mantra has always been that I would really make a go of writing if only I had more time in which to write.
Well, now I have the time. Granted, I can’t spend all of my time writing — I still have a job, thankfully, although I’m working from home, and I have a wife and daughter.
But my commute has disappeared, freeing up over an hour at least. I should be writing.
But I can’t.
