Sugar? Or Writer’s Block?

Is it the sweet cinnamon roll I have each morning at the Hungarian Pastry Shop that makes me groggy around 9:30 when I’m trying to write?  True, there’s no frosting, but there are raisins, and I never miss a raisin.  And though the dough isn’t particularly sweet, we all know bread stuffs turn to sugar in the factory.

I actually think it’s a kind of writer’s block that makes me want to sleep at 9:30 a.m.  I’ve only been up for three hours.  How could I be tired?  But this final chapter is giving me trouble.  Who wouldn’t rather sleep than pull together the dangling threads at the end of a novel?  To complete a character’s learning curve — or nonlearning curve if she refuses to be enlightened?

I’ve never believed in writer’s block.  I refuse to have such a thing.  So I’ll just say it’s the sugar, and try to consume half  as much cinnamon roll and a little more strong coffee.  And, of course, fight the desire to spend my mornings not writing.  Not looking into blankness.  Not imagining something that never happened, but might.



  1. Tsk tsp….no sweets until you are done with the pen!

  2. Tsk tsk…no sweets until you are done!

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