Reading Stephen King's Book, On Writing, Was

My Inner Critic Who Had Begun Piping Up About How Hopeless I Was And How I Didn't Know To Write.

A Wonderful Emotion To Get Things Moving When One Is Stuck Is Anger. It Was Anger More Than Anything Else That Had Set Me Off, Roused Me Into Productivity And Creativity.

If You Really Want To Write, Then Shut Yourself In A Room, Close The Door, And Write. If You Don't Want To Write, Do Something Else. It's As Simple As That.

In The Back Of My Mind Was The Constant Hankering, Almost Yearning, To Write But Something Always Stopped Me In My Tracks. Or If I Did Find My Way To Put A Pen To Paper Or Finger On A Keyboard I'd Give Up After A Few Minutes. I'd Find Other Things To Do: Anything But Writing.

My Biggest Excuse To Others And Myself Was That I Had Writer's Block, As If It Was Some Kind Of Illness.