As though it needed explaining, here is the Miriam Webster definition:
“Writer’s Block: the problem of not being able to think of something to write about or not being able to finish writing a story, poem, etc.”
That’s kind of a bland definition, I tend to imagine writer’s block as an almost pathological fear of the blank page. It’s an empty vessel, it needs to be filled, and yet nothing comes forth.
I have been fortunate so far in my writing so far that I have never suffered the dreaded condition. Normally, I’m a pretty happy-go-lucky writer, just happy to be doing my thing. However, I do have profoundly uninspired days. Days where I have some idea where the story is going but it’s a grinding, painful experience to get the words out.
Those days are frustrating because not only is it difficult to write, but the writing itself comes across as uninspired as I feel. It’s flat, boring, and the story only limps along. I will later read those passages and think that maybe it would be better to delete them, put them out of their misery, rather than try and make something productive out of them.
I don’t really consider that writer’s block, just kind of a slow day. Usually, I can push through those feelings, lose myself in the story, and after a while and regain my enthusiasm.
Today was one of those days. I still got my pages out though, so I consider it one more small victory.