Generally, I'm writing for clients. It's how I put the proverbial food on the table. Well, it's real food. But you know what I mean. Anyway, as a professional writer, I can't afford the luxury of writer's block. No write, no money. Bad combo.
Since writer's block is not an option, I rarely get it. (You get what you aim for -- I aim to write.)
Sunday, however, was one of those rare days. I couldn't string thoughts into words into sentences into paragraphs into money. So, you know what I did?
I GAVE UP.
That's right. After wasting three precious hours of my Sunday beating my head against the computer, I admitted defeat. I left the house and went to the grocery store, where I wandered aimlessly through the aisles, annoying middle-aged men in ugly shorts who clearly wanted to grab a can of baked beans, a package of weiners, a six-pack of beer and get the hell out of HyVee. I live in the suburbs. It's not pretty.
When I got home, I could write again.
There are times when the best thing we can do is realize we can't do anything. Accept it, and move on. That's a lesson I'm a long time learning ...
(If giving up doesn't work for you, check out Melanie's post on how to get out of a creative slump. Lots of great comments. Including mine. Hey! Did I ever say I was modest? No, I did not ...)