“I don’t know what to do with myself now that the ideas have stopped coming! When I was little, new ideas would pop into my head all the time and I would write them everywhere! I would write them on the wall, on my Mom’s clothes, even on the floor! They looked like scribbles to most people but to me they were elaborate tales of adventure! And sometimes I wouldn’t even use a pen.”
Writer with writer’s block begins to chuckle.
“I would use whatever my Mom made for dinner the night before! I would get so excited when we had leftovers because I knew a new idea would come to me that night and I would be able to put my idea right on the wall with the left overs! I would even go to my friend’s houses and look in their refrigerators and continue my story art on their walls! Sometimes I would throw the left over left overs in the washing machine for a grand finale! Those were the days.”
Writer with writer’s block looks toward ground and his smile disappears from face.
“I can’t help but think all my good days are gone days and all the good stories have already been written and already plagiarized tons of times. I guess I’m just another wannabe, hack writer who peaked in grade school.”
Writer with writer’s block looks at reporter for a hug. Reporter does not provide hug.
