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    AlaniIodine
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    Writing

    Post by AlaniIodine on Sun Jan 13, 2013 2:24 pm

    I hate writer's block. It has got to be the most annoying thing a writer like myself can come into contact with. Staring at a blank page it almost a boring and frustrating as it can get when you're trying to write the next biggest novel. Well, you can write all the time. That would just kill your hands. Thank goodness for laptops. You don't have to spend all of your time in with a pen in your hand and a blank piece of paper in front of you.

    But then again, staring at a blank document with your hands resting, unmoving, on the keyboard is just as bad. I've tried almost every writing exercise I can think of, and I'm still not going anywhere. Trying to write for twenty minutes straight with a ten minute break afterwards usually works for me, but this time I can't come up with anything. Nothing at all, which is so unlike me.

    I've written, now, thirteen best-sellers. I've been a New York Times best-selling author going on nineteen times now. I've written everything from how-to books, to poetry, to drawing, to almost every genre you can think of. So why is this time any different? The ideas usually just come to me. But now I've got nothing; and nothing does not write best-sellers. It doesn't work that way, unfortunately.

    But boy do I wish it did. Right now is one of those times when I wish that my entire living wasn't made off of my writing. So far, it's been enough; more than enough, actually. But there always comes the point in a writer's life where you just can't write anymore. Now, that doesn't help anybody. The readers and fans get upset, and the writer gets nervous. But sometimes a little stress does you good.

    My first best-seller was written just after I lost my job. My second was written while I was trying to finish high school; and so on. But now my life was going perfectly and my ideas must have decided to cease, just to teach me a lesson, and show me what happens when you get too comfortable with something, and begin to have lack of any stress at all.

    Well then, it was time to find something else to do; something that could possibly cause some stress.

    I had just gotten off the phone with my manager, and we have officially set up the beginning of my first tour. We're going to start small, just going around to a few states close to home, and see what that does. If we get a lot of response from the public, we may go a bit larger. I was told that I would be emailed a list of what I would need to bring with me on the tour, but that won't get her for a few minutes.

    The next four minutes were spent pacing as I felt the nerves and giddiness set in. I would going on tour! It was every young writer's dream to be famous enough to go on tour for their books. At least, back when my friends and I were avid writers and dreamers, we always talked about what our tours would be like. None of them had made it very far; out of all of us, I was the only one who really made it big.

    My friends were going to be so jealous it wouldn't even be funny. I would have to call them when I was finished packing. Of course, we would have to get together before I left and have a huge going-away party. I couldn't wait. We had all stayed in touch after we graduated high school, unlike most of the rest of our graduating class, and were still the best of friends. I couldn't wait to tell them the news. Of course, they would all be coming with me. It would just be the three of us, of course.

    Well, I guess I was right. Stress, triggered by becoming overwhelmed or overly excited, brought out the best ideas in me. While pacing my living room in front of my laptop, I decided that I would keep a journal of all the things I did while on tour with my friends and, if it was any good, I would publish that.

    Well, the email had arrived. I printed out the list, and headed to be bedroom to begin packing, awaiting the start of my up-and-coming big adventure.

      Current date/time is Sat Dec 15, 2018 9:39 pm