This week’s single frame story prompt is “block.” For someone who gets paid to write for a living, the word-association “block” automatically evokes is “writer’s block.”
My writer’s block isn’t just a “happening”…it’s a full blown persona. I know because I have encountered her often and know when she’s present even without hearing her. Without question, I know how she looks. She is of a *disciplined* thinness in form. She wears tight clothes and equally tight hair. She’s fiercely gorgeous — with equal emphasis on “fierce” as much as “gorgeous” — and dead certain of her artistic view. While I question all of that certainty (and I do question it alot), there’s no question that certain or not, she’s awfully smart. She looks exactly like this (see photo), although I have to say over the years with each creative endeavor, her appearance is softening. When I first did national novel writing month, my internal editor just about pitched a fit. She whirled about more rapidly than any Tasmanian devil could even hope to dream to do. Wonderful friend Dale always encouraged me to challenge my writing approach, sharing that nanowrimo is all about the process and all about learning from or experimenting with the process and less about writing the great American novella. He’s right. And yet my internal editor was sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo *incredibly* uncomfortable with that. Sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo much so that really she inserted herself in each novella I wrote for the three years that I completed nanowrimo. That proved, in the end, to be very interesting in itself because I tussled with my Internal Editor right within the stories themselves, right there on paper. It was like an Ultimate Fighter competition in writing. She made it through – as did I – even though it became very clear to me at some point that really my primary purpose with nanowrimo was to face my internal editor directly. To give her form and presence. To look her right in the eye. To understand what she has been trying to do with my creative process. In the end, she’s there to help. It’s taken me years to see that (maybe that’s why she’s starving herself and wearing her clothes so tight I don’t know). But it’s nice to see some progress. There was a time when she wore a button top white shirt collared so high that I thought she would suffocate. So now I am pleased to see the plunging v-neck and the off-center collar not quite so perfectly resting against her collarbone.
I’ve never known the name of my Internal Editor. But she’s a Domme-Librarian. That much I always knew. And what I’ve learned, among other things, from my time inworld is that in any Domme-Sub (or Dom-Sub) relationship, the Sub really has all the power. I’ve never engaged in this role play myself but I’ve heard this about the Dom-Sub relationship from those who have. Beyond that…what I’ve *really* learned is that those are simply guises. She’s just trying to help. Knowing that and believing that…that’s when all the Domme bravado falls away and I can hear her more clearly.
Before I was enlightened though, the artist-editor relationship might look something like this. My entry for this week’s single frame story is entitled “The You’re-Not-Listening of Writer’s Block.”