Quite often when I am conplaining of 'the block' I end up staring at my bookshelves.
There is something quite reassuring them
For me they represent memories. My past is tangled up in mix of fantasy stories and world that will never exist in our reality. I just have to pick up one of those volumes and I am carried away once more.
Brilliant, but that does not get me writing.
The other thing I like about physical books is that they are evidence that 'it can be done!' Thousands upon thousands of other people have written the darned things. Start stories and even finished them. This is a continual source of hope and inspiration to this struggling writer.
I will get there.
One day my books will sit on someone else's bookshelf. I hope that person gets carried away to some wonderful place that originated from my imagination. I hope so. Its only fair I give something back.
And to tell the truth I did manage 158 words on my short story this morning...
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