Hitting the Wall (A 100 word post)

There are days when I attack the page with gusto.  The words flow with just a small bit of priming of the pump.  That flow is directed in ways that are sometimes artful, other times clunky, but still slowly something materializes and grows from that flow.  Tonight is not one of those times.  Tonight the words have declared a strike against my imagination.  They are picketing, chanting silent slogans of protest.  I have sent in strike breakers since I need them to work right now.  How else can you be a professional writer?  Well maybe this will break the deadlock…

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