To write is to share your soul
I discovered this passion three years ago. I've been a reader all my life - I'd read pass midnight, during class with my book hidden under the desk, and even skip human time to read - suffice to say I loved books, I loved stories, and I loved creating them in my mind. So, it isn't truly surprising that I felt the searing itch in my fingers to write one fine boring day.
I wrote a book, started two more, have a collection of over a hundred poems. and even tried my hand at magazine articles. My hands never stopped. My soul kept flowing. My mind kept creating.
Until I hit a wall.
I've heard of this awful thing called writers block and I would just shrug and think it's really nothing. I thought it would never hit me. That I'd always have something to write. I was wrong. It trickled into my soul, freezing the river and leaving me cold - dramatic, I know, but that's how it feels.
I suppose some would believe that this block is due to a loss of passion - it's anything but that. I can feel words in me, yearning to be written, but there's something - this block between it all causing this jumbled mess of confusion and frustration.
I haven't truly written in a few months. It's horrible. In fact this right here is a first after a while of blankness. It actually feels good to write about it and maybe, just maybe, that's the key.
Write about your writers block. Crazy, I know. It's a little painful trying to shove coherent words to form a sentence, but after some time you realize your fingers have picked up speed and most importantly there's a crack in the wall. it's not nearly destroyed, but it is breaking and that's progress.
Even crazier, speak about it. I know what any introverted writer is thinking right about now. "Talk about it? No way. My words belong to paper not in the air." The truth is it helps and in the end that's all that matters.
All I'm saying is don't give up. You'll get back there at some point or the other. Just don't expect it to happen on its own. You've got to work for what you want, and what I want is to write again. I'm sure you do, too.