“Oh, come on, there’s gotta be something,” I let out a sigh and flip another page in my fifteenth notebook. “All this good writing and I can’t come up with an idea.” The next page is blank. End of the notebook. I toss it on the pile beside me and shuffle through the bookshelf to find another.
“I really should organize this.” Next notebook I pull is completely empty. The cover’s really pretty though. Wonder what I saving it for? “Alright, empty journals, notebooks, and notepads go on the far right.”
I pull another notebook. Everything in it pertains to my novels. “I should read this over again.” I squint at one of the titles in the middle of the notebook. This one must be pretty old because I don’t include that scene anymore. I sigh. I need to clump everything together in one notebook. “Everything pertaining to my novel goes on the far left.”
I grab another spiral. It’s a sketchbook. One I used for high school. Next to it is a sketchbook I bring to family gatherings. “Oh, look. An empty pastel pad.” I sigh as I pull out the sketchpad and the black paper notebook beside it. “These should be going in the studio.” I set them down beside me and fumble a frown. “Well, good. I’m organizing, but I still don’t have an idea.”
With another sigh, I lean back and stare around my room. Pastel drawings on the wall. Gaming figures on the shelf. A giant poster I made of my novel. Magic here. Dreams there. “I already did a post about that,” I mutter at a drawing of me. I spot my “Believe in the Magic” sign. “And I did one of that.” I groan. “Why am I coming up empty?!” I roll my eyes. “Probably because I’ve done over 200 webposts already.”
I get up and pace the room, my notebooks still scattered on the floor. “It’s Christmas Time. I should do something about that, but what can I do that I haven’t already done? I did Christmas movies. I did Christmas Carols. I did blessings and stories, and poems too!”
I plop down at my desk and stare at my computer. “I could try a prompt? See what’s on my old flashdrive? I could write a story? But what would have good conflict and plot?” I groan again and lay my head on my wrist beany thing. “Maybe this webpost should be a throw away? Not a lot of people are gonna read it anyway. It doesn’t have to be good quality, right?” Yet, in my head, I know I’m wrong. Everything needs to be good quality. How else would people take me seriously? “Two years I’ve been doing this. I’m trying my best.” I look up at my computer. The purple screen, waiting for words. “This site is supposed to support my novel. Guess I haven’t done that well, lately.”
My novel. It’s been on the backburner since I’m waiting on an editor. I should be working on the sequel. Reconnecting with my characters. “But I’m terrified,” I whisper. “I think the story’s great, but that’s my bias opinion. What if it’s really all wrong? What if I have to rewrite it…AGAIN?!”
I sigh again and an old scene creeps into my mind. One I cut ages ago. A character in conflict–God bless him. I love him. He’s leaned on a mantle, staring at flames. Nothing, at all, is going his way. He has one dream. One hope. One goal. And, it feels like everything’s out of control. The dream is the furthest it’s ever been and nothing good can come around the bend. Yet, in comes a friend, understanding his plight. He sits with and talks with him all night. Finally, a question passes his lips, something to my beloved get a grip. “Tell me, my friend, I know it’s late, but for this dream: how long are you willing to wait?” My beloved does sigh quite externally. He lifts his head and says. “I’d wait all through eternity.”
I sit at my computer, smiling to myself. “This webpost will be something else.”