A Hopefully Ironic Letter to Writer’s Block

Hello, old friend. I’d say I’m happy to see you, but we both know that would be the most absurd of lies. You’re unwelcome here. In fact, no one likes you; you’re that awkward kid at the party everyone nods at and asks, “Who invited him?”

I’m surprised you’re even letting these words slips from my stiff, uncreative, wordless fingertips. Or maybe not, since each sentence takes over a minute to write, and after which I feel compelled to read and reread five times.

And thanks for the commas. When you’re here I forget how to write short sentences, using that cursed comma to string together every thought I have because, well, it’s easy to write lengthy sentences when you feel like you can’t write anything at all.

Hopefully ironic, I keep telling myself. This is clever. Maybe it’s all okay now.

But when I open up my latest project, you’ll be there—who invited him?—perverse grin on your face as you bat my hands away from the keyboard, make my overactive mind still at all the wrong moments, and make life suck.

Ah, yes. There you are. I see you’re back.


About Eloise J. Knapp

Eloise J. Knapp is an author and designer living in the Pacific Northwest.
This entry was posted in Humor, Life, On Writing and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to A Hopefully Ironic Letter to Writer’s Block

  1. I feel ya! Hang in there.

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