Over the past several weeks, I’ve had what is professionally called ‘writer’s block’. I wanted to write, but the ideas, the thoughts, the words did not come. Thinking that the blanks would be filled soon, I just needed a period of rest, so I shoved the keyboard aside and went about life, breathing in and breathing out, walking and talking, reading other peoples words on the latest news. Killing time.
I got involved watching the winter Olympics. Between the broadcasts, I happened upon a British TV detective series that was interesting, and I was hooked. When an episode ended, I immediately started the next one comfortably relaxed with the coffee cup chilling nearby. I would spend hours glued to watching the screen filled with life. Comfortably relaxed in my recliner, I was intrigued by the mysteries, yet I was there in flesh only being hypnotized by the mystery. Inside, I wanted to get creative again, but that’s as far as any desire would lead. The want, but no will. No understanding of how to get started again. As I watched the series I noted how the hooks were placed to keep the audience interested. Was this an educational time? A time to learn how the screen writers plot for interest.
Will I get the desire to write, to get creative with words and sentences again? Why can’t I? Is this the end of my creativeness? Does God have another plan for me? Be patient. Seek and wait. Wait and seek. I’m listening. Lord, I’m here.
I sat here yesterday desiring to write again. I opened the Word program staring at the whiteness of the screen and the blackness of the keyboard. Closed the program. I opened this blog going all the way back to the first entry, reading each post again. Hmm? Was that me writing that? Did I actually compose those thoughts, those words into sentences? Where did those ideas come from? Does not sound like me. I was impressed. Reading on I found a few errors I had not seen and corrected the miss-punctuation before hitting the send button. I was still impressed. I can do this again. Thank you, Lord.
I woke up early this morning way before the sun started peeking over the horizon. I was excited at the thoughts coming wanting the water to seep through the coffee grounds quicker, so I could get with it. I desired to activate my fingers again to follow the thoughts and here I am. The previous sentences came. The sun is still hiding. I’m still punching. I want to write again, and I will. This is the end of my time of ‘writer’s block’. I enjoy the art of writing. It is an art. I write without the thought of being on the front page of the NY Times. I just enjoy the time spent doing something I love to do. It’s better for me in my old age to keep my grey matter spinning than being reclined in an easy chair letting the flesh get sluggish.
And so, I hope you enjoy reading these lines, all five of you. Stay tuned to the next.
Author: Arnold R. Kropp
About Mr. Arnold.
Back in the days when I was a kid growing up in south Chicago, freely roaming around the neighborhood was common, and just a part of life in the late '40s and early '50s. A train track was less than a mile away and a favorite place to walk along the rails. A large city park was a bit closer with areas of dense trees and areas of open grassy picnic grounds. A public golf course was just two blocks away, but the famed 4-lane busy Western avenue had to be crossed to get to it, and we crossed in the middle of the block running between the cars and trucks. We knew the risks. In the winters, we would climb that fence making our way to one of the ponds, we’d push and shovel away the snow and play a spontaneous game of hockey, or bring a sled and slide down the hillside ; no adults, no special padding, just a group of kids enjoying the contest.
Dad was at work. Mom was home tending to the laundry and preparing the family meal for promptly at 6 pm. Life was good. It was fun. Sunday mornings were dress up in suit and tie, polished shoes for Sunday school and the worship service, then to a restaurant.
Arnold went on to college immediately after high school, but could not find a subject, a major that was really up his alley, so he enlisted in the Army and served in Germany during the years the Berlin wall was built. Seeing what effects Soviet communism had on the people of East Germany left an impression on him. During those years, he would write many long letters home starting a desire to write more than just letters. Many years later Arnold developed a blog where he posted hundreds of articles on the political side of American life. Some of those are available in the collection named "Ramblings".
Today, Society is totally different from that of the '50s, a whole lot different.
Today, it has become scary to let the kids roam. Today it has become organized to the hilt with 2nd graders playing organized football. In my present relatively quiet neighborhood, I do see kids walking the streets, but there is a difference as the kids seem to be apprehensive and on guard or intently operating a telephone as they walk, not running after each other playing hide and seek.
Today, the above freedoms of the '50s are suspect and avoided as being dangerous activities. And that is sad. It's sad that today's kids do not have that freedom, and it may be having a direct effect on their development. Consider, one fact that is readily apparent today compared to yesterday; the preponderance of overweight and obese kids, even pre-school kids are heavier than we were, and this has to be affecting the rest of their daily lives. No doubt about it. But, I'd better hush, can't talk about those things.
Yes, in the '50s there were Semi-trucks, public transportation, murders, rape, robberies, house fires, sickness and diseases resulting in death, and yes, there were deadly vehicle accidents too. There was even poverty and homosexuals too. We went to public schools, and the high school was integrated. This was Chicago, but those events did not make the headlines, as news was only broadcast at 6pm and possibly 10pm nightcap. Days of the cold war kept us together as a nation. We saw the "Victory at Sea" war clips before the main feature at the theaters.
And now technology dominates life. A cell phone in every handy pocket posting selfies. A computer saving everything to one of those cumulous clouds. Room size TV’s broadcasting everything 24/7.
This is more information than I want.
Let me decide something.
I think. therefore, I am.
I was born a male, therefore I am.
I was born-again, therefore I am.
I have life within, therefore I am.
The news is not my guide.
The TV is not my Sheppard.
View all posts by Arnold R. Kropp
One thought on “Writer’s blockage.”
My advice to step out of your comfort zone of writing, and just write something that makes you feel uncomfortable.
My other suggestion is to track which hours of the day are your most creative hours.
The Majority of People fall into the category of being most logical in the morning, and most creative at night.
Stephen Diagram | https://stephendiagram.com/