In Search of Inspiration…



This is certainly something new. And I don’t like it. Nope. Not at all.

I have no inspiration. I can’t find anything to write about.

I look through my list of items and words, sent to me by friends and family – at my request no less – to inspire me and get a story started in the fog of my brain.

Nothing happens.

I move on to my folder of “Great Lines”, a collection of things I have heard friends say over the years and have thought they would be a great way to start a story or at the very least put into one for effect or shock value.

Nothing happens.

I have a list of interesting characters that I’d like to write about so I peruse that.

Nothing happens.

I look over my Six Word Stories, seeing if any of them would be a good start to a short story, knowing damn well that some of them would be since I have talked this idea over with people based on a suggestion by a friend of mine. Problem solved, right?

Nothing happens.

I am becoming frustrated to say the least.

I check the clock. It’s been over half an hour now. That’s a new record for me. It’s never taken this long to ignite a story in me before. I recall reading or hearing something said by some famous author, I can’t remember who, something about if you haven’t written in the first fifteen minutes at the desk, walk away. So I do.

The next day I run through the same routine.

Nothing happens.

I suddenly remember that I spent a good deal of money on those Story Cubes! I’m saved! One roll of the dice and the story will just pour out of me! I dig them out, choose a few from each set at random, hold my breath, and roll, a huge smile of anticipation on my face.

Ten minutes later I am still staring at the damn frustrating little cubes of plastic and their incomprehensible hieroglyphs.

In other words, nothing happens.

A small voice pipes up in my head and cheerfully suggests that I could do some more Six Word Stories. I mercilessly shoot it dead. Those come too easy and I A) don’t want to fall back onto the easy stuff when this gets hard, and B) find out that this lack of inspiration runs so deep that I can’t even do the easy stuff.

Now what do I do?

I look around the room for inspiration. All I see is the same old thing. Same scuffed up furniture, same sleeping cats, same sleeping dog, and an ancient out of tune piano. Basically your average boring living room. I wait. I hope.

Nothing happens.

I know! Neil Gaiman said that to be a writer, you should read. So I am going to take an hour and read. Maybe that will start my Muse. An hour goes by.

Nothing happens.

I’m getting antsy here. I need to have something done to read to the group. Douglas Adams said “I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.” Funny yes, but not my style, I’m afraid. I hate deadlines. I find they approach way too fast. Which was sort of his point, I guess. What the hell am I going to write about? Oh good. Just what I needed!  My cell phone is going off every two minutes with texts from the kids and calls as well. And of course now is a great time for the telemarketers to bother me too. Now the dog wants something. And the cats, who usually only pay attention to me if they need food, suddenly think I’m the greatest thing on earth. Oh dear God. Now I’m rambling. I’m losing it. And I’m running out of time.

I take a deep breath and concentrate, really, really, hard.

Nothing happens.

Damn it.

I wish I could have found something to write about.


Note: The first class of the first semester is now over and a bunch of us budding writers have decided to meet every Thursday during the regular class time in the back room of a local bakery / coffee shop to continue with our endeavors until class starts up again in January.

Your comments and creative criticism are more than welcome.


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