Sometimes I Get Stuck…

I wish I could buy Ex Lax for writer’s block. You know, something that really, really gets the brain juices flowing.

The mental constipation I have now, I’m not sure even classifies as “writer’s block.” I know what has to come next in my story but am afraid it’s going to come out dry and boring. (Ick…this metaphor is getting a little out of hand).

One sort of newbie author said that when she has writer’s block she blows stuff up. Sometimes real stuff (the pyromaniac way) and sometimes figuratively. She asks herself, “What if a bomb exploded next to them right now? What would my characters do?”

My main character is in a painter’s van right now. I could, actually, blow them up. And since I’m not a plotter it could work. I’d probably have to go back and rewrite it later, but at least I’d move forward.

On second thought, I know we have a can of gasoline in the garage. It’s raining, so the likelihood of anything I blow up staying on fire is pretty slim. My husband used to blow up toys as a child and he’s a perfectly functional adult with all his digits. Perhaps I should ask him for a few tips on how to safely blow stuff up.

Or not.

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