Writer’s block. Two words that can strike fear in the heart of every writer. And, like every writer, I have experienced it before, but nothing like I did over the past few months. It was so bad that I couldn’t write anything, not even my grocery list.
I would sit at my kitchen table, pen and paper in hand (yes, I am that old-fashioned), and stare off into space. I even tried to get some inspiration by flipping through a few of my favorite cookbooks. Nothing. Nada. Zilch.
The blank paper seemed to mock me as I tapped the pen to my head trying to get some creative synapses firing. And still, I had nothing. Great. My Red Booth Writer’s Group was getting ready to rally and come up with another four new articles to submit to The Pueblo Chieftain, and I couldn’t even come...