Writer's block
Writer's Block
By Twobunny (Dennis Hurst)
Any resemblance to anyone real or imagined is purely intentional. This is a real conversation that I am having with my muse.
There are additions to the story, thanks to those who wrote me and suggested updates. Thank you for those.
Hello, my name is Dennis, I am an amateur writer., You have probably read something I have written on yiffstar. I am currently under the spell of writers block which isn't helping things with my writing. For the past month, I haven't had an idea on how to complete any story, nor had any idea on any new stories.
I sit at my computer looking at stories other authors have wrote and pictures people have made hoping to get an idea. Until.
I hear a jingle bell.
That would be my pet rabbit, Harvey, playing with his toys. Usually rabbits need interaction to play with toy. So I step out of the computer room and into the living area.
And to my surprise I see an anthropomorphic being in the shape of a rabbit playing with Harvey.
I blurt out in surprise?, "Who or what are you?"
"I am your muse, a spirit of inspiration."
After passing out, I waken awaken to the concerned face of my muse.
"Good, your awake, let's get writing."
"You are not real. Go away."
"I am too real, If I am not, I would not be here. Now about that writing."
"About what, I haven't had a good idea in a month."
"Let us brainstorm."
After 10 minutes, I say, "I got nothing,"
"Tell me about yourself."
"Why would I open up my personal life to a stranger?"
"I am not a stranger, for one thing and something that helps is to write about something you know. So tell me about yourself."
"Well, I had an average childhood, lived by by myself for years, Got diagnosed with a illness and have been living on disability ever since"
"That is interesting. Any dating going on?"
"I'm not interested in girls or guys. If that is what you mean."
"Tell me about your family"?
"I have two brothers and one sister. And my parents separated when I was young. I never knew my father until I was in mid childhood."
Then I ask a question. "What is your name?"
"My name is what you want it to be."
"I don't know. Let me think of a few names and see what you think. You don't look like an Alice, nor a Flopsy." The muse groaned at the time it was taking me to think of a name instead of focusing on my writing "I know, how about Cottontail.. Cottontail the muse."
"I like it, reminds me of my best part of me. My tail."
"So, Cottontail, what to do about my writing, should I give up for a while?"
"You should never give up, you just need a change of scenery."
"Where should I go, it is threatening to snow as we speak. And the housing situation is not to my benefit"
"Nothing that extreme, just to a local park, first thing in the morning. The beauty of things may help jog your writing streak Maybe: into a more productive pace."
"Will you be there with me."
"I am always with you. I will be right by your side."
"I am tired, time for bed. I'll sleep on the couch and you can take the bed."
"You always take the couch."
"The couch is more comfortable."
The next morning finds me in the local park watching children playing in the snow that fell last night.
"So any progress?."
"No, no such luck. But it was fun watching the children play in the snow like I used to..."
"What?"
"I just got an idea, what about an adult fur that is able to regress to a child."
"That is a good idea for a short story."
"By the way, why can I only see you and not everyone.
"I am real to only you."
I immediately head home and start writing on the story.
I get two chapters into the story and hit a roadblock.
"What now?"
"I am at a point in the story where I could go several ways and I could write it several ways but I can't decide how to write it."
"Tell me the ideas."
I tell Cottontail my story ideas.
"I'd go with the third one. That would be more believable."
"I agree. Believability is better than pure fantasy."
I continue writing until,
Knock, knock.
I turn off the monitor and go and open the door.
"Time for your annual inspection."
"Would you believe that I totally forgot about it. Come in."
I allow the landlord into the apartment.
"Hello, Harvey."
My landlord loves my pet, Harvey. Especially between two slices of bread. (Which he will never get.)
The inspection goes well, but my concentration is shot. I go to bed when the time comes and sleep and dream away.
The next morning finds myself back at square one. No ideas to complete stories and no ideas for new stories.
"What you need is a week away. Time off from writing,." The muse said
"I could go to my mother's house for a week, I'll make the reservations."
I go on-line to make transportation arrangements. But only to find all airlines full during the holidays. I change tactics and go for a bus line and get tickets and then for later I get a car rental.
The visit with my mother is wonderful but no ideas come forth.
"I tried everything you have recommended and still no ideas."
"Well, I am running out of ideas too. I know!, write about me."
"I don't know, I have only known you for only a couple of weeks."
"But I have been with you all your life. Just, not always visible."
"Where were you when I needed you in high school?"
"I was there, but hidden, hoping you wouldn't need me."
"Well I needed you badly then as I need you now."
"Then let's get back to the task at hand."
"I still don't have any ideas."
"I know, let's try music, that always works. Let's try your music collection."
"You'll be disappointed."
Cottontail looks over my music collection.
"Not much to look at."
"I don't purchase much music."
"Try this."
"Christmas music."
"It is near the holidays. Is it not?"
"I guess so." and I start playing Christmas music through the speakers of my PC.
Twenty minutes into listening, I get a brainstorm.
This is one of my the better ideas that I have wrote. At least I think so.
It takes me over three days of writing and hours hopped up on caffeine. and with the lack of sleep with the continual sounds of Christmas music playing on the speakers of my PC I'm exhausted. Cottontail coming came in from time to time to correct my context and review my story. Once completed , this the story goes to my Yahoo buddies in Yahoo group Anthrolitarts for a basic review. Then it is posted to one of several sites, mostly primarily Furaffinity and Yiffstar. And that, dear reader, this is where I end my story, on how a furry friend ended a writers block.
Dedicated to Cottontail, my Muse.
Note: if you have any good ideas for a story and you suck at writing anything larger than a post-it note, e-mail me with the idea or the picture link. If it is a good idea, you will get credit for the idea.
Dennis