Writer’s Block: Kick Start

There are no rules and yet, there are too many rules. I write, not because I want to; in fact, I am afraid of writing, of saying the wrong thing. Of constantly writing and then rewriting, and then never finishing anything of value.

Perhaps I fear being misunderstood or undervalued.

Perhaps I am looking for that perfect lead sentence, that set of words that tumbles miraculously off the page, that kick-starts the reader’s brain and devours him alive, that binds him and bribes him and subjugates him, somehow convinces him to read the entire volume of say, 25 or 250 pages. He must not only read, but love. No not love, but be consumed by the vision contained within those pages. He must be motivated to his own sense of greatness, must become a better human, must be saved and must discover that my writing revealed some quintessential knowledge that he simply couldn’t have lived without.

I think perhaps my goals have been set too high.

Perhaps I should allow myself to write. To make mistakes. To never be published. To pursue the art of communicating with letters and words and sentences, to let the forming of ideas, characters and plots be the end in itself. Let the people come to life on my page. Let them inhabit my world.

And then, if I chose, let them meet other people, people who have been deemed “real” and therefore better; people who have been appointed judge and jury; people who may or may not decide whether my fictitious world is worthy of becoming the literary Disneyland, the amusement venue for those who seek entertainment for today and today alone.

Maybe I should be writing . . .