After two years and three months of posting every day with the exception of guest bloggers when I’m away, it finally happened (and I know it happens to everyone and it’s not a reflection of my masculinity), but I couldn’t get it up. I started one post after another and I just didn’t feel it, couldn’t muster the desire or passion or just plain bone for life.
My head is swirling with the comments of the last few days and I don’t where to go with that. Much is happening at work, but I’m duty bound not to talk about projects and clients in play. I’m in the middle of three writing projects and suddenly feeling that a train is about to hit me as I dance on the tracks. And someone said my blog isn’t really about publishing and I feel defensive and wounded. Imagine that! My writing book is about publishing from an editor’s perspective, but the part that people seem more interested in is the inner life of writers. The wicked child and all that jazz. Touching fire! All that matters is release. I think that’s why I write. Bring my roots rain.
Have you ever had this problem?
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