Writer’s block


Writer’s block

I knew one day it would happen. After 14 years and over 700 columns, something that strikes fear into this writer has finally arrived at our house: Writer’s block.

Writer’s block has me gazing at a blank computer screen this morning not knowing exactly what to do or where to go — just like the yellow and orange flying insect, that has just landed on the screen.

I start, stop, and reverse direction only to repeat the process over and over again. My new friend, the yellow and orange flying insect, does the same. I could write about him, but no one really wants to read about the insect now crawling around my desk using long feelers’ to keep from running into objects.

Still, he’s extremely interesting looking. In all my studies of the bug kingdom, I’ve never seen such an odd creature. It actually looks as if he has not one, but two heads.

A closer examination with a magnifying glass seems warranted, but only after I find a topic for this week’s column – something almost as elusive as my attempt to capture my early morning writing partner. As he escapes from my grasp for the second time, I’ve decided that a much-needed break from my non-writing and non-capture attempts is warranted.

Weekend grocery shopping has left our refrigerator full, so a midmorning snack of seedless grapes, apple slices, chocolate chip cookies, and a glass of sweet tea is just what the doctor ordered. Doc really didn’t order it, but I did see him just last week for my physical, and I know he would approve.

He loves chocolate chip cookies. Besides, a writer can’t write on an empty stomach, now can he?

Juggling grapes high into the air, I’ve successfully captured only one in my mouth. The rest have landed on the counter with two bouncing off and rolling under the refrigerator.

After downing the cookies and rest of the tea, I retrieve the already bent clothes hanger saved for just such an occasion. With two cats, two grandchildren, and my juggling skills still not up to par, items can always be retrieved from under the refrigerator.

Among today’s haul: three magnetic pigs, a blue Lego, a Pixy Stix still filled with edible cherry dust (a tasty way to top off lunch) and what I think is a group of raisins — until they all move.

There is also something about six inches long, gray and fuzzy with blue eyes. Not sure but I think it winks at me before scampering off. Only one of the two grapes was retrieved. Raisins carry off the other one.

While on hands and knees, multiple thoughts for stories come to mind. I could write about the kid named Booger, the great pumpkin war, or the Haunted Forest behind our house on Flamingo Street.

How the dark forest got its name and the innocent life that was lost there is an unbelievable story.

But all story ideas are quickly forgotten as the cleaning is finished and the death of one of the raisins is successful. Traps are set for the others. They always return and in great numbers.

After all the hard work cleaning, it’s time to cool off with another glass of tea. Unfortunately, it looks like the yellow and orange flying insect has decided to take up residence in the bottom of the glass.

Guess he’s a true Southerner. Can’t blame him, nothing’s better on a hot afternoon than a cool glass of sweet tea. Carefully I place him and the glass outside.

Deciding just to give in to writer’s block, I return to the computer and turn it off. Instead, I’m heading over to see Little One and Sweet Caroline. Hugs and kisses for their Big Papa may not help any with writer’s block, but it certainly can’t hurt.

[Rick Ryckeley has been writing stories since 2001. To read more of Rick’s stories, visit his blog: storiesbyrick.wordpress.com.]