I am writing my first novel. But instead of writing on it, I'm blogging. What the hell is this? I want to write. I have to write. I need this as much as I need food and air, writing is like breathing to me. That in itself makes me a writer.
Writing is the only and I mean only thing that the step-father ever gave me any credit for and also the husband. I may think I have a gift, but where has it gone?
I haven't written on my novel in 2 weeks. And what do I do now?
I wish I had the prose of Tom Robbins....but I'm not that intelligent. I'm blocked and all I can think of to do is just sit down and bang out some words on the keyboard. Or put pen to paper. Help!!! I'm just screwed!