I have been battling with writer’s block on and off for, I don’t know, my entire life. Five years ago I set out to write my first book* and the speed with which I am accomplishing that task is comparable to a one-legged turtle, climbing uphill, in December, through molasses. Also I just learned that I had no idea how to spell molasses.
After a long, heart-felt, conversation with my agent this afternoon, it was decided that the best thing to do to overcome the madness of trying to work on the book, was to do some blogging. This would allow me to do some writing without the pressure of trying to make word goals. I can endlessly rant, shortly rant, and just rant.
“It’ll get the creative juices flowing!” she said.
It is now 12:28am. Roughly 12 hours after we had that conversation and here I am finally writing about how I have been completely unable to write anything.
When inspiration finally struck to write something I spent an hour trying to figure out how to go about writing about what I wanted to write about. Then my TV wouldn’t properly connect to my wi-fi and despite not needing the TV to be on, it bugged me so much that I couldn’t relax until I got it working again.
For some reason I enjoy background noise.
So the TV is finally working again and I put on The Last Five Years to fill my life with noise, namely music. But now I’m actually watching it. Damn it, I enjoy being depressed.
If you haven’t seen it, it’s on Netflix and I recommend it. It is a movie version of the musical of the same name. The film is told from two perspectives of a relationship falling apart. The twist is that Cathy (played by my heroine Anna Kendrick) is telling the story from end to beginning while Jamie (my new husband Jeremy Jordan) is telling the story from beginning to end.
And there’s singing.
I was skeptical about the movie because I enjoy the musical but they pulled it off.
So I guess the moral of this post it to go watch The Last Five Years on Netflix.
Look at me go, I’m a blogger.
*I actually did write a book 13 years ago entitled “Reflections.” It was a collections of short stories, personal essays and poetry. There is only one copy left in the world and I’ve hidden it in my underwear drawer where it will stay forever.