Last week an old poem I wrote, probably over 20 years ago, popped into my head. Much of the material I composed back in the 80s and 90s has never been stored electronically.
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As writer, we may have differing opinions about what we are trying to accomplish here. Some of us write as a hobby, while some of us are looking at our efforts as a business.
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Writer's block happens. It's the bane of those of us who write professionally and yet it is so easy to remedy.
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As I sit here with a blank page, waiting for the muse of creativity to inspire a thought that will transform into a really nice article, I can’t seem to get this one word out of my head. Pride.
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The feeling of nothing. No, I don't mean the emptiness of depression or the hollow of heartbreak. I am taking about that urge to write but not knowing what to write about.
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I enjoy writing, often, which is probably why I'm here on Xomba.
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