Patricia Steffy
Photo credit: Meghan Wilson

I’m feeling creatively bankrupt (as opposed to financially bankrupt which may also be true in the not so distant future). The words aren’t coming, and it doesn’t matter what I do.

It’s gloomy out—normally a sign that writing is on the horizon. Instead, I’m just staring out the window watching the gloom. Maybe if it actually rained? Then again, I have my sound machine going. I should be tricking my brain into thinking that there is a monsoon happening outside (or at least that I’m writing in the shower).  Rather than being inspired, I’m just sort of thirsty.

I have my stretchy writing pants on because who can write when you are all bound up in skinny jeans? I have a big sweater wrapped around me. I’m even wearing socks. This does not happen often. Still… nothing.

I’ve called out the big guns (no, not alcohol); I’ve hit play on my iTunes playlist, aptly entitled, “When nothing else works.”  And while I am singing along with The Civil Wars (If I didn’t know better…), the block is still firmly in place.

No amount of self-threatening has prompted the flow of ideas. I keep watching the little flashing arrow on my screen just waiting for me to suddenly kick into gear. How can a person with so many opinions suddenly have so little to say?

I know what I have to do. I have deadlines. I have goals. I have the need. I have the need of others. What I don’t have are the words.

What do you do when something needs to be written, but the words elude you? I’m open to nearly all suggestions (and ghost writers). Hit me up in the comments or in an email. I’ll also accept notes by skywriter. Please keep in mind that if your suggestion is triple chocolate bundt cake from Mardy’s Munchies that you need to get it to me as soon as possible… you know… for the sake of science.