I hate the way the cursor just sits there, blinking at me in disbelief because I’ve been staring at a blank page for almost half an hour.
Well, actually, winking seems to be closer to the point – winking as though it knows the inside joke and can barely restrain itself from laughing at my expense.
“What?” it scoffs. “You call yourself a writer, but you can’t even put two words together without a five-minute debate about whether the story is worth writing or if you’re starting at the right part of it!”
I can’t argue with that. Might as well give it another go later today, I conclude, closing the word document.
Or maybe tomorrow. I turn off my laptop and put it away.
Or never…. I consider all the hours I have spent on *actual* writing and wonder whether it would be cowardly to give up on my many works-in-progress.
Hold up!
That moment when you realise you’ve turned a tiny black flashing line, which is supposed to be just a “movable indicator on a computer screen identifying the point that will be affected by input from the user” (yep, I Googled it), into this sadistic villain who can only be outwitted by the most experienced, most courageous person alive.
And that sure ain’t me!
Silly, eh?
So maybe… instead of visualising someone egging me on, saying, “Ha! Just try and fill all this blank space with your useless words that won’t do justice to even your stupidest ideas!” I should simply thank the cursor for preventing me from blindly inserting letters into random places on the page.
Now that would look stupid!
Liv'n'Hope 