The Brick Wall

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Into every life some rain must fall. And into every writer’s life, writer’s block must rear its ugly head. Now, I know I’m being incredibly generous calling myself a writer, maybe a fledgling typist would be a more apt description, but I’ve literally hit a wall on a project I’m working on. It feels like I’m trying to reach the top of the last obstacle on American Ninja Warrior, or that torturous rope in gym class with a bell at the top. I just want to ring the damn bell, but I can’t even get up the first rung. The crazy thing is I have a million ideas of how to attack this issue in my head, but I’ve yet to make any of them work. So I sit there, for hours on end, watching the blinking cursor as it taunts me.

Those that know me well, know that I’m rarely at a loss for words. In fact, my mom likes to remind be of how I learned to talk. When I was a toddler, my father was off on an assignment and my mom was working in an orange packing plant. Faced with the need for childcare, my grandmother stepped into the role. My Grandma Bea was an amazing woman. Kind, caring, loving, a little on the crazy side, and very, very talkative. It’s understandable why she gets the blame for me. As my mom told me, “I left you with your Grandma with a two-word vocabulary. By the time she was done with you, you wouldn’t shut up!” She was a teacher at one point in her life so she obviously knew what she was doing. And since she taught me to talk, I’m going to pile on the blame and give her the responsibility for my incredibly verbose daughter as well. Seems fair to me.

I guess that’s why this is not an easy problem to wrap my head around. I should be able to do this, quickly and easily. But no. Instead here I sit, the well-versed talker, at a loss for words. Or at least the ability to put them onto virtual paper. This isn’t my first rodeo with the demon that haunts writers, but it’s my longest struggle. This battle is more difficult and protracted because, unlike my blog, I can’t just plug a recipe or a bad poem into the middle of a book on family conflict and make it work. Trust me, I’ve considered doing it…

When conflict plagues your family, there’s no better way to resolve it than to bake a batch of these fantastic Mocha Chip Cookies. As your family digs into the warm, chocolatey goodness, you will feel the conflict melt away. Much like the soft cookies melt in your mouth.

**Author’s note: Not appropriate for the vegan family, because this recipe is chock full of butter. Everything’s better with butter. If you’re a struggling vegan family, maybe you should try adding it to your life to make you all happier.  

Probably not a winner there. Perhaps the bad poetry route holds more promise:

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

You hate me,

And I hate you.

Yeah, that’s not a good choice either.

I know that I will eventually figure this out. Until then, I think I may need another cup of coffee, a snuggle with my dog, and a little Hallmark Channel time. Or a nap.

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