My writer's block woes seemed to inspire at least one writer's creativity. Glad I could help, Kat, at least with your blog post.
While reading her thoughts on the matter, I recalled something Roland Yeomans once wrote: remember your first love. Actually, Jesus might have said that first, but Roland repeated it a while ago.
I thought I had remembered. I even added the song that went with the post to my "Songs of the Turtle" page as inspiration for Past Ties (Walking in the Air, if you're curious).
If I did remember, I promptly walked away and forgot again, like the fool in James. Or maybe I didn't remember the most important thing about why I write.
I write for the corn.
It's the same reason I read. Or watch movies. I want melodrama. I want over-the-top emotive experiences. I grew up on William Shatner's Star Trek. Tom Baker's Doctor Who. I cried at Charmed episodes, people, not because they're good, but because they are over-the-top melodramas!
This is what I've been missing! The corn!
I've been so focused on removing all things corny, I forgot that's what I love to write. See, I wanted something deep and solid and meaningful. Something hearty and bread-like. Something serious. Silly me.
Oh, I'll tone it down later, have no fear. But to start...to get it out on the page...I must plant lots and lots of corn. I must be Dr. McCoy, not Mr. Spock. Somewhere down the line, I'll find that middle ground of season one Captain Kirk. You know, when he was good?
Is the proof in the cornbread? I wrote over 1K words last night. Easily. Corn everywhere, but I wrote. It wasn't painful or laborious. It wasn't flat or cautious. Just good ole-fashioned melodrama.
Explosions! Hypnotism (a staple of early 80's TV)! Trauma wards and rubble! Ah, good times. Nothing like a little carnage to get the heart pounding. Pile on a few arguments and a life-and-death decision and wham! It's off to the movies for the turtle!
For the record, I used no exclamation points last night. If your verbs are strong enough, you don't need 'em.
Anyhoo, I'm not saying the block is gone. I am saying, I'm looking forward to my next block of writing time.
And my next batch of cornbread.