Frozen

     I was a bit caught off guard when I joined this class. Like many others, I had thought CRTW 300 to be an actual "writing" class. Instead, I found myself immersed in a reading class. Two such classes, in fact, because I signed up for ENG 300 as well. I was required to take both, so it was not a matter of choice. I was a bit disappointed to say the least. My purpose for transferring to EMU was to absorb and learn, while being compelled and required to write. Like most aspiring authors, I find that getting started is the most difficult part of the writing process.
  Where to begin? The pure, white page is so daunting. Holding the pen and staring at that empty page can be compared to having an idea "on the tip of one's tongue".  So often, I sit frozen, thinking and eying the vacant area, as if the words might miraculously appear. They don't. The most frustrating factor in the whole equation of creating a story, is that single first word. Like water trapped in a pipe on a frozen winter evening. As the time ticks by, or the temperature drops, you feel the pressure building. The words, like the freezing drops of water strain for release. Everything is there, right there, waiting for me to simply turn the handle. So simple, yet impossible just the same.
     Perhaps reading the tales written by brilliant, long lost storytellers will inspire me. Maybe their words will loosen that stubborn tap handle just enough to allow my own to trickle out. One never knows what sparks inspiration. You never see it coming. You sit down one afternoon and it is there, pouring all over the page and dripping onto the next. Those are the days I hunger for.