It’s easy to get intimidated when you’re sitting down at a keyboard and staring at a blank screen. You’ve had at least a hundred great ideas this week, and right now, just when you’ve sat down at the keyboard, poised your fingers over the asdfjkl; – the ideas seem to be snatched from the air by butterflies blowing bubbles. And you think they’re gone.
They’re not gone. They are, however, making you work for them.
The days when the story writes itself are buried under layers of dirt, distraction and dessert thoughts. This blank page is exactly like a bare piece of ground in spring… it’s got great potential, but unless you dive into it and care for it, all it’s ever going to be is weeds, mud and a few creepy crawly creatures.
So start caring, dear one. Start writing. That blank page has a history and a future. It has funny faces, farts and flowers – all waiting there to be carved out of its marble-like surface and given life. Make it gloriously big or precisely small. Whatever you want. It’s waiting. Right there.