How Do You Destroy Writers Block?
folder
Original - Misc › Humour
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,190
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › Humour
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,190
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Writers Block Part II
* Taken from my own twisted and disturbed mind so beware when reading! *
A/N: Yes I am back with a part two. After many months ( nearly a year, but not quite ) away from here I am back with something since the first part was such a big hit. I wasn\'t expecting that at all to tell the truth. Though I was hoping it would be at least read and accepted for what it is. A humorous look at that thing we all hate to love. Well...Maybe not love. Tolerate, maybe? Anyhoo...Read on fellow sufferers of writers block! And, uh, yeah! Also to those who seem to have no problem getting over it. Read on I say! Read on!
-----------------------------
No... It...it can\'t be! Its still there! That impenetrable wall still blocking your way. You kick, claw, scratch and bite, but it hasn\'t helped. Nope not even a small indention on that massive object in your way. What is a tortured writer to do?! Will driving a car at it work any?
No a car is too small and all that would happen is that you will be out on vehicle. Or how about a truck? No, still the same result. Or maybe a tank? Yeah! Then you could use the canon on it to blow it to bits, but no...Damn thing is out of ammo! How can a tank be fully stocked with everything else ( oh! even a cool mini-fridge, but then again, what is a mini fridge doing in a tank!? ), bullets, and some guns should the other occupents need it in a pinch like in \"Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade\" to shoot the bad guys. Though, weren\'t the bad guys already *in* the tank already? Hmmm....Something to ponder later.
Since the tank was a flop what\'s a writer to do? Weathering it out is one option. But what of the readers? They\'re waiting for the next installment! The pressure! You can\'t take the pressure to deliver the next chapter!You suddenly go completely mad and you start to jump around like a deranged monkey who has gotten loose in the zoo.
Things start to fly. First the keyboard and then the poor inoffensive mouse. Next to go is the stupid microphone that hasn\'t worked right ever since that last power outage and then the web cam. The final thing to go around the computer is the webcam that has stared and mocked you with its one unblinking eye. Then you start to stomp on the items you just threw on the floor and when they lie in pieces, you search the room for more victims of your enormous ( not to mention ) terrifying wrath. And that\'s when you spot your next set of innocent victims. Your knick-knack collection of useless items. With eyes alight and gleaming almost demonically, your reach for and grasp one and send it flying across the room where it makes a statisfying breaking sound and you turn your fiendish look to the others, who, to your mind, now look terrified! An evil smile comes over your face.
Your laughter sounds out about the room and filling the house as you grab two more and chuck them across the room over your shoulder not caring where they land or who the land on. On and on it goes till the entire collection has been utterly annihilated and there is nothing more to break. However, you are still not satisfied, you are still in a crazed haze of frustration and utter hopelessness.
But behold! There is another person in the house!They have come to see what the hell all that racket was about. Unfortunately, you are still oblivious and now you\'re tossing the cute stuffed animals that were residing most innocently around the computer. They\'re now being used to knock the pictures off the wall and the resultant shattering of glass is making a statisfying crash and crunch as you repeatedly use the same toys to knock more down.
A thunderous shout is heard echoing around the room. You turn to see who dares disturb your rant session. And you encounter it. The Face of Wrath! Nooooooo!!!! Run! Run for your life! That is what you are *supposed* to do. That is what any *sane* person would do in such a situation. But, whoever said you were sane at the moment.
You bravely sneer and scowl at it. It roars in answer and it finally sinks in to you. You take a good look around. At where your beloved knick-knack collection is *supposed* to be. Your face starts to return to normal, slowly but surely. You look at the walls where pictures of your family and high school graduation is supposed to be. But alas! Nothing is where its supposed to be. You panic and look in your hand. It once was one of those cute toys that sat around the computer to help cheer you on. Now, it\'s nothing but rags and bits of stuffing. You can\'t believe what you are seeing! You start to shuffle back to the computer, and something crunches ominously underfoot. It it was once a moust button. Now, just bits of plastic on the carpet. You look up with a look of total disbelief at the destruction you have wrought in your derangement.
Your eyes well up with tears of sadness and of regret, and you flee the room with eyes covered and head bent in shame over what Writer\'s Block has done to you. You lock your room and you don\'t leave for the next three days except for food and water you secret back to your room.
THREE DAYS LATER!
It has now been three days since Ground Zero has happened in your living room. The mess has been cleaned, the pictures righted and put in new frames, the remaining stuffed toys removed and hid from sight and a new keyboard, mouse, and webcam has been placed neatly on top of the monitor. But more fighteningly is a note stating:
Next time you go on a rampage, go somewhere else, or else!
You gulp hard and look surreptitiously around. You tug at you collar and whimper a bit. But after the moment of fear has passed you decide to take the bull by the horns again. You go through your ritual warm up. You crack your knuckles and neck, flex you knees as if you are about to start a run, do some shoulder rolls to loosen up those tense muscles, and let out a large stimulating belch that rattles the ribcaged and lungs.
Now you are ready to tackle the mountain ( which seems to have grown alarmingly in the last three days ) in front of you. With a smirk on your face that says, \"Your going down you son-of-a-bitch!\" You give it a confiendent bird and pull out your secret weapon...An extra large case of TNT. The mountain seems to give a twitch in reponse. You bare your teeth in a truly ferral grin because that\'s not all the TNT you have brought, that was just a tip of the iceberg of what you have in store for it.
Turning around you stride back to a rather large camoflaged tent after leaving that one box there at the slightly trembling mountain\'s base.
Now after many trips back and forth you have stacked at least three 10 ft x 10ft sized boxes high. The mountain is doing more than just trembling slightly it is quaking! Your ferral grin shows once again. Now you are ready for detonation! And after stringing all the boxes together you make a lead at least two miles long where you will be safe enough to watch the fireworks soon to come.
Sliding some safety googles and a hard hat on you get behind a crudly constructed barrier to protect you from flying debris. The handle awaits, the answer to your prayers. All you have to do is push it down and BOOM! All your problems just disappear in the blink of an eye. Your hands sweat in anticipation. It beads up on your brow. All you have to do is push that plunger and all will be well in the world again. Your hands are in place, everything has gone silent, the birds, insects, everything stops making noise. The only sound you hear is the gentle breeze going across your brow and whistling in your ears.
You push it down with a flourish and a triumphant shout as you await the most spectacular explosion the writing world has seen to date. But, no! The only thing you hear is an ominous click and the quaking of the mountain stops, and begins to laugh. You have been once again defeated, but, alas, there is always tomorrow! MU-WHA-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
-------------------------------------------------------
A/N: Well, I hope you all have enjoyed this installment to my once one-shot only story. Well... I hope all have enjoyed this humorous blurb. I wasn\'t really going to make another chapter but I decided to anyways. Plus I always find I can write a little better after writing and/or reading this. I hope this helps as well to all who suffer from that nasty Writer\'s Block. May it crumble and turn to dust, and may the dust NOT sting your eyes... O.o Tee-hee... ^_^
--- SilverFox =^.^=
P.S This has not been spell or grammar checked as I can\'t find my Microsoft Word program. I am truly sorry for any errors. English wasn\'t my best subject in school.. ^^;;
A/N: Yes I am back with a part two. After many months ( nearly a year, but not quite ) away from here I am back with something since the first part was such a big hit. I wasn\'t expecting that at all to tell the truth. Though I was hoping it would be at least read and accepted for what it is. A humorous look at that thing we all hate to love. Well...Maybe not love. Tolerate, maybe? Anyhoo...Read on fellow sufferers of writers block! And, uh, yeah! Also to those who seem to have no problem getting over it. Read on I say! Read on!
-----------------------------
No... It...it can\'t be! Its still there! That impenetrable wall still blocking your way. You kick, claw, scratch and bite, but it hasn\'t helped. Nope not even a small indention on that massive object in your way. What is a tortured writer to do?! Will driving a car at it work any?
No a car is too small and all that would happen is that you will be out on vehicle. Or how about a truck? No, still the same result. Or maybe a tank? Yeah! Then you could use the canon on it to blow it to bits, but no...Damn thing is out of ammo! How can a tank be fully stocked with everything else ( oh! even a cool mini-fridge, but then again, what is a mini fridge doing in a tank!? ), bullets, and some guns should the other occupents need it in a pinch like in \"Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade\" to shoot the bad guys. Though, weren\'t the bad guys already *in* the tank already? Hmmm....Something to ponder later.
Since the tank was a flop what\'s a writer to do? Weathering it out is one option. But what of the readers? They\'re waiting for the next installment! The pressure! You can\'t take the pressure to deliver the next chapter!You suddenly go completely mad and you start to jump around like a deranged monkey who has gotten loose in the zoo.
Things start to fly. First the keyboard and then the poor inoffensive mouse. Next to go is the stupid microphone that hasn\'t worked right ever since that last power outage and then the web cam. The final thing to go around the computer is the webcam that has stared and mocked you with its one unblinking eye. Then you start to stomp on the items you just threw on the floor and when they lie in pieces, you search the room for more victims of your enormous ( not to mention ) terrifying wrath. And that\'s when you spot your next set of innocent victims. Your knick-knack collection of useless items. With eyes alight and gleaming almost demonically, your reach for and grasp one and send it flying across the room where it makes a statisfying breaking sound and you turn your fiendish look to the others, who, to your mind, now look terrified! An evil smile comes over your face.
Your laughter sounds out about the room and filling the house as you grab two more and chuck them across the room over your shoulder not caring where they land or who the land on. On and on it goes till the entire collection has been utterly annihilated and there is nothing more to break. However, you are still not satisfied, you are still in a crazed haze of frustration and utter hopelessness.
But behold! There is another person in the house!They have come to see what the hell all that racket was about. Unfortunately, you are still oblivious and now you\'re tossing the cute stuffed animals that were residing most innocently around the computer. They\'re now being used to knock the pictures off the wall and the resultant shattering of glass is making a statisfying crash and crunch as you repeatedly use the same toys to knock more down.
A thunderous shout is heard echoing around the room. You turn to see who dares disturb your rant session. And you encounter it. The Face of Wrath! Nooooooo!!!! Run! Run for your life! That is what you are *supposed* to do. That is what any *sane* person would do in such a situation. But, whoever said you were sane at the moment.
You bravely sneer and scowl at it. It roars in answer and it finally sinks in to you. You take a good look around. At where your beloved knick-knack collection is *supposed* to be. Your face starts to return to normal, slowly but surely. You look at the walls where pictures of your family and high school graduation is supposed to be. But alas! Nothing is where its supposed to be. You panic and look in your hand. It once was one of those cute toys that sat around the computer to help cheer you on. Now, it\'s nothing but rags and bits of stuffing. You can\'t believe what you are seeing! You start to shuffle back to the computer, and something crunches ominously underfoot. It it was once a moust button. Now, just bits of plastic on the carpet. You look up with a look of total disbelief at the destruction you have wrought in your derangement.
Your eyes well up with tears of sadness and of regret, and you flee the room with eyes covered and head bent in shame over what Writer\'s Block has done to you. You lock your room and you don\'t leave for the next three days except for food and water you secret back to your room.
THREE DAYS LATER!
It has now been three days since Ground Zero has happened in your living room. The mess has been cleaned, the pictures righted and put in new frames, the remaining stuffed toys removed and hid from sight and a new keyboard, mouse, and webcam has been placed neatly on top of the monitor. But more fighteningly is a note stating:
Next time you go on a rampage, go somewhere else, or else!
You gulp hard and look surreptitiously around. You tug at you collar and whimper a bit. But after the moment of fear has passed you decide to take the bull by the horns again. You go through your ritual warm up. You crack your knuckles and neck, flex you knees as if you are about to start a run, do some shoulder rolls to loosen up those tense muscles, and let out a large stimulating belch that rattles the ribcaged and lungs.
Now you are ready to tackle the mountain ( which seems to have grown alarmingly in the last three days ) in front of you. With a smirk on your face that says, \"Your going down you son-of-a-bitch!\" You give it a confiendent bird and pull out your secret weapon...An extra large case of TNT. The mountain seems to give a twitch in reponse. You bare your teeth in a truly ferral grin because that\'s not all the TNT you have brought, that was just a tip of the iceberg of what you have in store for it.
Turning around you stride back to a rather large camoflaged tent after leaving that one box there at the slightly trembling mountain\'s base.
Now after many trips back and forth you have stacked at least three 10 ft x 10ft sized boxes high. The mountain is doing more than just trembling slightly it is quaking! Your ferral grin shows once again. Now you are ready for detonation! And after stringing all the boxes together you make a lead at least two miles long where you will be safe enough to watch the fireworks soon to come.
Sliding some safety googles and a hard hat on you get behind a crudly constructed barrier to protect you from flying debris. The handle awaits, the answer to your prayers. All you have to do is push it down and BOOM! All your problems just disappear in the blink of an eye. Your hands sweat in anticipation. It beads up on your brow. All you have to do is push that plunger and all will be well in the world again. Your hands are in place, everything has gone silent, the birds, insects, everything stops making noise. The only sound you hear is the gentle breeze going across your brow and whistling in your ears.
You push it down with a flourish and a triumphant shout as you await the most spectacular explosion the writing world has seen to date. But, no! The only thing you hear is an ominous click and the quaking of the mountain stops, and begins to laugh. You have been once again defeated, but, alas, there is always tomorrow! MU-WHA-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
-------------------------------------------------------
A/N: Well, I hope you all have enjoyed this installment to my once one-shot only story. Well... I hope all have enjoyed this humorous blurb. I wasn\'t really going to make another chapter but I decided to anyways. Plus I always find I can write a little better after writing and/or reading this. I hope this helps as well to all who suffer from that nasty Writer\'s Block. May it crumble and turn to dust, and may the dust NOT sting your eyes... O.o Tee-hee... ^_^
--- SilverFox =^.^=
P.S This has not been spell or grammar checked as I can\'t find my Microsoft Word program. I am truly sorry for any errors. English wasn\'t my best subject in school.. ^^;;