I had a great idea today.  It was complete, a full, detailed picture of something I really wanted to say, all in my head, like it was a movie behind my eyes.  It wouldn’t, however, come out to play.  I tried to write it down both as  a poem and as prose but whatever I put down on paper was not what was in my head.  I knew exactly what I wanted to say, but the words just would not come, at least not the right ones.  Anything I did put down on paper was a pale shadow of what I really, truly wanted to say.  This is I believe the most truly anguishing thing about being a writer, not having nothing to say but having something you really want to say and say well but then suddenly being struck dumb just as you’re trying to say it.  I have had writer’s block before and while staring at a blank page hoping for inspiration is frustrating, it in no way approaches the level of hell that is watching a good idea fade away while you’re struggling to find just that key phrase that will unlock the whole thing and make it something new and wonderful and perfect.  There will always be other ideas, and I may even come back to this one someday, but it will not be the same and that does make me just a little sad that it could not find its voice.


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