It’s an opressively hot October afternoon. I have the worst writer’s block of my life. I can write a few words together, I can create one or two images, but I can’t connect them. I want to tell the story of the young girl who sees the carnival come to her small town, the girl who is just 18, and aware of her power over men, the girl who tries to use this power on a young ride operator so she can escape her small town. The girl who has her power turned back on her and ends the story crying in an empty field surrounded by torn tickets and cigarette butts.
I want to tell the story of the powerless man who watches his wife cry herself to sleep at night. The man who can’t provide for his family, the man who can’t protect them from the Bogeyman. The man who wanders his empty house at night, looking for the joy he knows once lived there. The man who waits for exhaustion to claim him in the deep of night, and give him a brief reprieve from his sadness.
The stories sit cross a river of doubt and frustration, and the ferryman demands a payment I don’t have. I decide to walk down the shore, in search of a bridge.
I find myself in Old Town Pasadena, in front of Hooters, where this whole journey began. Maybe my muse is inside.
I walk in and find the place filled with middle-aged businessmen who drink beer and leer at the young waitresses over fish sandwiches. A young girl with hair so bleached it looks like straw says, “Welcome to Hooters!”
“Can I get food at the bar?” I ask.
“Of course!”
“Thanks,” I say, and take a seat.
The waitress working the bar appears to be about the same age as me, in stark contrast to the other girls who look like they’re all in their early 20s. There are heavy bags beneath her tired and sad eyes.
“What can I get you?” she asks.
“A Guinness and a cheeseburger,” I say.
She turns, and pours me a pint. It’s still settling when she puts it in front of me.
“Not many people drink Guinness in the middle of the day,” she says.
“Is that a fact?” I say. In my mind I’m Sam Spade or Phillip Marlowe, and I’m in a 1920s Hollywood speakeasy.
“It is,” she says, “I think this is the only pint I’ve poured all day.
“Well, I don’t like to drink beer I can see through,” I say, as I lift the now-settled glass to my lips.
Her laugh doesn’t make it to her eyes, but it’s still friendly. I find a kindred spirit in her sadness. We’re both in a place we didn’t expect to be. I bet I’m the first guy she’s waited on all day who hasn’t stared at her skimpy outfit while talking to her.
“Hey, honey, can we get another pitcher of Bud over here?” calls a guy in a George Zimmer signature suit at the corner of the bar. His tie is loose and he bounces his leg on the rail. It shakes under my foot. I don’t like that at all.
I look around the restaurant. I’ve never seen it this full during the day. John Fogerty tells me that there’s a bad moon on the rise.
“Sure,” she says, and walks down to the taps.
Two young girls turn heads as they walk in and sit at a table behind me. “Oh my god! Your eyebrows look so great!” the tall one says.
“Don’t they? I totally had them tattoo’d on,” she says.
I tune them out and count the rings down my glass: one . . . two . . . three.
Four.
I look down the bar and see Men’s Wearhouse and his business partners putting their best midlife crisis moves on the waitress — my waitress. Brown Suit stares at her chest while Blue Suit flashes a capped smile at her. She giggles and fusses with her hair, and fills their glasses.
“Hurry back!” Brown Suit says, as she walks back up the bar.
Five. I stare at the top of my beer. It looks like clouds over a black sky.
“So what do you do?” she asks.
” . . . I guess I’m a writer.”
“You guess you are, or you are?”
“I am. I’m blocked today.”
“By what?”
“The Bogeyman.”
“What’s that?”
“A convenient literary metaphor.”
“You are a writer.”
I laugh. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
“Have you written anything I’ve read?” she asks. A loaded question.
“Probably not,” I say, “I wrote one, and the people who read it seem to like it, and I’m working on another one.”
“But you’re blocked today,” she says.
“Yeah. This place is sort of involved in my career choice, so I thought I’d come here and try to break the block.”
“How’s that working out for you?” she asks. A flicker of mirth passes her eyes.
“Well, at the very least, I’ll get a Guinness out of the deal.”
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gripping imagery…. hooters all around, seems as though the build up has passed. Personally i always found a quick listen to the Moz telling me i just haven’t earned it yet lately to be a nice kick in the ass…. but writing music is nothing like writing words. keep the faith.
-keith
Nothing like a little homework to loosen the shingles.
Hey, Wil…
Hello boat.
::sigh::
Better than the first, mang.
The best part of that post for me as a woman was that although you were at hooters you treated that gal like a human not a piece of meat as the other gentleman you mention did. Don’t get me wrong we all ogle at the opposite sex, but once in a while it is nice to just be a gal and nothing more! That was my thought for the day!
The best part of that post for me as a woman was that although you were at hooters you treated that gal like a human not a piece of meat as the other gentleman you mention did. Don’t get me wrong we all ogle at the opposite sex, but once in a while it is nice to just be a gal and nothing more! That was my thought for the day!
Blocked?!
You are so full of shite.
That was a great piece of writing. I could feel the atmosphere in the bar as I was reading.
I remember a book that was part of my creative writing class in college. It is called ‘Writing Down the Bones’
http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/0877733759/104-5933324-0287901?v=glance
It is a great book to teach you tools that you can use to make it through the tough spots. Spots where you feel there is stuff inside and you can’t get past the trainwreck that is in front of it.
It tries to teach the ‘ZEN’ of writing. It is a thin book but has a lot to offer.
If you are still feeling like you have a block then give this a try. It just might help you pick away at the block to free the stories inside.
Who knows, you may even find some gems while clearing the block.
Good luck Wil.
I ::heart:: unca willy.
(not in a gay way)
((not that there is anything wrong with that))
Read over what you just wrote and then try and tell me you’re blocked.
When all else fails ask yourself.. what would pooh do? 😉
Ouch. This entry brought back some memories I didn’t really want to think about, and don’t really want to get into right here. The point is, this little story made me feel and emote. Keep going, you’re on the right track.
Wil, that was brilliant – if this is how you write while blocked, I can’t wait for JAG. You’re a fabulous and talented writer, and I look forward to much, much more.
Wil,
I can totally identify (BTW “Men’s Wearhouse and his business partners”…funny shit.). I am going through a little life block. Never quite knowing how one moment will connect with the next, or if connection is even an option. My mother (a wise sage of a woman, DNA non-withstanding) recently said something totally profound that I think just may help you…ready?
“Change one thing.” The catalyst to breaking free of one’s own demons lies wholly in that persons ability to identify the pattern and break free of it, even if that means changing just the most minute little thing.
Go a different way to the store. Call someone who would never expect it. Shift your current focus 180 degrees. instead of trying to write about the way someone feels, write about someone who can no longer feel at all. Change one thing, Wil.
You’re good. Really, really good. Hell, look how many people come here everyday to read what you have to say. I can’t wait to see what you do in the future.
I think my previous submission may be correct… you’ve got a lot of weight on your shoulders right now, and you need to live throuhgh it to be able to concentrate on the story at hand. You will learn something (or may have already if this post of yours is as it seems…). This is the something you need to learn so that you can go on. It may be small, but it’s all part of growing… I think you are on your way, even tonight. You have to know that you are the best Wil there is to be, and stressors are there to remind you of that. If you feel deep inside that you are not whole right now, then you have something to work on. I feel that you just may be truly whole and this writer’s block is the thing that needs to show you that beauty. You needen’t ever be insecure. You always seem to do your best, and that’s all that the capability gods ask.
I never comment here, but I can’t let a good Boingo reference slip by. Nice title 🙂
Ernest Hemingway’s wife didn’t like it when Ernest would have “writing blocks”. Ernest had a writing studio in his backyard, in Key West, Florida. When Ernest had his “writing blocks”, he would go down to the neighborhood tavern and drink the day away. His wife cured his problem. She had a second story walkway built, which connected the house and the second floor of the studio.
It was too easy for Ernest to go to the tavern before the walkway was built. The walkway forced him to go to the studio.
When the tavern was torn down, Ernest bought the urinal. His wife was mad and didn’t want it around. Ernest insisted that it was staying, his reason was that he had put a lot of money down that urinal.
His wife didn’t want her garden club friends to be offended, she came up with the brillant idea of turning it into a fountain.
Another little tidbit. Do you remember the episode of the Dick Van Dyke Show when Rob had writers block? He couldn’t get anything on paper and Laura told him to go to a friends cabin.
Rob did everything at the cabin except write. He strapped on and play with cap pistols and repeatedly tried to better his record at paddleball.
Does any of this sound familar?
your writing always brings a smile to my face.
Wil,
Are you sure you have writer’s block? Because that was wonderful.
Keep writing!
*chuckles*
And the writer’s block dissolves…
🙂
Ponder — is the Bogeyman the same guy as the ferryman?
Does the carnival girl have the same color eyes as your Hooters waitress?
Was Men’s Warehouse a carny in a previous life?
Has the the powerless man heard the words of Raymond Chandler? “Down these mean streets a man must go who is not himself mean, who is neither tarnished nor afraid.
if this is the result, then ‘go writer’s block. rah!’
you rock, my day is better.
I’ve found that one of the fastest ways to get writer’s block is to succeed. You become hyper aware of your audience and you can’t get your inner judge to take a backseat. Everything you write comes out sounding stilted, like that funny voice stage actors use that never sounds quite natural – that reading aloud in front of the class type of voice.Taking time like this to get grounded again and connect back with the part of you that started writing in the first place is a good way to get over some of that, as I think you’ve discovered here.
Wil,
I find that a good listening to Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat gets the juices flowing….not the Donny Osmond version. But that’s just me. However, I do have to say, that if that’s writer’s block, I hope you hit another patch soon. 😉 j/k
That was a really brilliant post
excellent, wil.
i haven’t purchased any of them yet…
…but you have just sold me on “walking barefoot”. if you continue to write like that, i just might have to become a lifelong reader of whatever you write.
so be carefull…
eric m.
fargo, nd
I know exactly where you’re at, Wil.
I’m something of a writer myself, albeit in a rather different genre. Romantic, sappy fiction. It’s a curse, but I digress…
I’ve been working on one particular story for the past four years now. I’ve had it posted on the web for about that time, and the response has been more than I ever dreamed. To a small peanuts writer like me, 50,000 hits a year to my story site is a big deal. And the emails I get from all over the world (Japan, Europe, even Africa!) just blow my mind. That kind of response is what keeps me writing.
But, for the past two years, I’ve been working on the same chapter, the next to last installment in the story. I work in it in bits and pieces, but I go for weeks, months, even a full year with the block monster keeping my work at bay. I’ve given alot of what I am to this story, and suddenly, I feel drained.
Before, the words flowed out like an unstoppable river. Now, they trickle like the proverbial leaky faucet that keeps you awake with its incessant dripping at three in the morning.
But you know what? It’s not really that bad. In that time, I’ve managed to write a few short stories on other subjects (all still falling hopelessly into the sappy lovesick trappings that my mind is cursed with), and have gotten back into the swing of things slowly.
Basically, what I’m saying is, give it some time. Take a short break, clear your thoughts. Concentrate on other things: Your wife, the kids, the dog, anything but your writing. Rent some old movies, chill out at 1am watching Cartoon Network. Anything that gets your mind off of writing. Take Ryan on a small road trip, just the guys, to a place he’s (or you, for that matter) never really been to.
In other words, take an escape from what has become your escape. Even the best of us need to get away from getting away for a while.
Good luck, Wil. We can wait for JAG, so take your time. No pressure at all ^,^
If this is you on a bad writing day, I can understand why you love the good writing days.
Anyone who can say “convenient literary metaphor” and mean it deserves respect. If you said paradigm, then you’d need to worry.
If it helps, as a fellow writer (I write marketing text books. I do it for the glamour), if you want to laugh at writer’s block experienced by others, I’ve occassionally hit the solid lack of inspiration in my writing…when I’m trying to write a question.
At least with fiction or semi-biography, writer’s block is accepted. On textbook questions? Nobody believes a lack of inspiration on asking a question about marketing.
$
(My muse! I can’t describe the pricing strategies of Walmart without my muse!*)
(*At this point my muse resigned and moved in with an accountant)
Not bad for a man with writers block!
Somebody once gave me this advice: If you’re blocked, write about being blocked.
Wil-
P.S.
totally off vein from the above enlightening entry of mine:
If you ever need help on the perspective on a “hot” 18 year old who knows her influence on men, I’ll be glad to help. Although I’ve grown immeasurably since then, I remember those times, and the real reason behind them. I wasn’t being me – something I prided myself on – and I knew it.
I really loved this. It was a very relaxng thing to read after coming home from a night class with a migraine.
Believe the waitress. She’s wise. *nods*
That was amazing. So much emotion in that, and ther were some sentences that just made my knees weak they were so perfect. :p
if this makes it into JAG I’m gonna buy it right away. 😀
(wonders where his copy of Dancing Barefoot is so he can read Vegaspants again)
writer’s block or not, that was a wonderfully written story.
Wil, if you’re still blocked, give this a shot — try to clear your mind completely. This sounds easy, but unless you’re a Buddhist, it sure isn’t. Try to make sure that nothing — absolutely nothing — is happening inside your head. You can’t even think of the word “nothing,” as this is cheating.
There. There’s no surer way to make your mind fire up than trying to shut it all the way down. It works for me when I’m blocked.
–S
At the very least.
Wil, if you’re blocked you put my greatest inspirations to embarrassment. Your descriptions were beautiful, I could swear I smelled the cotton candy and popcorn in that carnival story.
Just…wow.
There’s no such thing as writer’s block.
It’s all in your head. You sit down, and you write through that wall in your head. It’s all you can do. Sure, it might feel like you’re yanking nose hairs, but just keep pushing through it. Once you get on the other side, you’ll look back and kick yourself for feeling so verklempt.
Chris
Damn, Wheaton, you’re good. Evocative prose for a post about having writer’s block…I look forward to reading the stories in their entirety, whenever they’re ready to be born.
Take care, Will–and hang in there. We care about you.
Best to Anne, the kids and the menagerie,
Syd
And I’m sorry about the extra “L” in your name in my last post, Wil–one of the cats decided to help me type…egad.
Syd
Wil-
Who new Hooters held the answers to all of those pesky life-changing moments?
the boogeyman–he’s vistied me before. We call him FTB–he takes prisoners too–bank accounts.
Loved it. if this is block you should have more of them.
I just wanted to say thanks for sharing your life with us. You touch us all (not in that way) and make us ponder and reflect on our own lives. No matter what my mood, my spirits are lifted everytime I read an entry. It’s nice to know that I’m not the only one struggling through, yet at the same time recognizing the beauty of, life.
It’s kind of ironic, because I checked the site to get inspiration for a paper that I’m trying to write. I think I’ve found it.
Thanks Uncle Willie.
This touched me for numerous reasons. Being a writer myself I know the familiar romantic escapes one needs to take to add pinches of thought in a stream of conciousness. My “day job” however is bartending. I’ve been in this business for seven years. And I started at the bottom, a disrespected busboy. Writer’s block is nothing to be feared. It happens for a reason. When it does happen it’s simply a warning sign that your best is not ready yet. Let it simmer.
I know this is a bit presumptuous of me, but there’s a fantastic book that helped me a lot. It’s called ‘The Wild Mind: Living The Writer’s Life’. I believe the author’s name is Natalie Rosenberg. Great book, regardless of the writing stuff, about her journey into the Taos, NM area and lesbianism as well as her development as a writer.
However, the writing stuff is killer for kicking yourself out of a rut.
Mind you, I really have no business recommending this book, as I’ve never completed anything longer than a movie review or short humor piece except one crappy short story about vampires in a convenience store.
Hmm. Now that I think about it, all I need to do is add werewolves and I bet I could get a studio to option it.
Not sure why I’m writing here.Just read the comments and tend to agree!I did enjoy Dancing Barefoot.-SR
“I have the worst writer’s block of my life.”
Zen is like flying a helicopter. To make the mind go anywhere, you must first be able to make the mind go nowhere.
Even though i’m not a writer, i know that kind of feeling. One day, you’re all fired up and the most creative things come flowing onto the screen. The next day, nothing seems to work and you start CTRL-A:Del-ing way too often.
What I do to get away is going to my youth club (located in a 300 to 600 year old building) and start working on it. There are always things to be improved. Some woodwork here, a lick of paint there, a couple of new lights, etc. I find that being productive in another way keeps my spirits up and gives me the energy to restart another project.
Off course, a good pint is never bad for you. I love that your love for Guinness equals mine. At this club we sometimes have a tap system for Stouts, and in the past year we had 3 kinds of beer on it (on my advice). Guinness, Youngs Double Chocolate Stout and Youngs Oatmeal Stout… I guess you know them. Ok, enough about the ‘cold coffee with cream’.
Good luck with your writing and we love you all.
Just remember, “50,000 monkeys at 50,000 typewriters can’t be wrong.”
So what do you have to lose?
I find stress blocks my creativity stronger than anything. It looks like lunch at Hooter’s eliminated yours. You’re on the right track now. Keep going!
🙂
Scott
I find stress blocks my creativity stronger than anything. It looks like lunch at Hooter’s eliminated yours. You’re on the right track now. Keep going!
🙂
Scott
I find stress blocks my creativity stronger than anything. It looks like lunch at Hooter’s eliminated yours. You’re on the right track now. Keep going!
🙂
Scott
I find stress blocks my creativity stronger than anything. It looks like lunch at Hooter’s eliminated yours. You’re on the right track now. Keep going!
🙂
Scott
I find stress blocks my creativity stronger than anything. It looks like lunch at Hooter’s eliminated yours. You’re on the right track now. Keep going!
🙂
Scott
I find stress blocks my creativity stronger than anything. It looks like lunch at Hooter’s eliminated yours. You’re on the right track now. Keep going!
🙂
Scott
I find stress blocks my creativity stronger than anything. It looks like lunch at Hooter’s eliminated yours. You’re on the right track now. Keep going!
🙂
Scott