blocks

I have writers block. It's not nearly as fun as lincoln logs, legos or those wooden shapes. In fact, it's not a toy at all.

In my attempt to try and make something bigger of my love of writing, I found some contests in which to enter my work. Bravado took hold and I envisioned lovingly cradling the works of my mind in my hands, before handing them off to be critiqued. No sooner had I confidently envisioned this than a masked bandit came by and swiped my brain. I watched helplessly as he stuffed my thoughts into a plastic sack then ran off into the night. For a time, I felt defeated. And now, much hand wringing later, I find myself ready to seek out this crafty pillager and take back what it is mine.

Help!