A couple of days ago I wrote a post called “Your Abandoned Desk” which was, if I may say so, a well written piece viewing writer’s block from within, told in the second person and carrying a tone I don’t normally use here in Blogsville – It worked well as something different and was a nice piece of prose – The next day I followed it up with “A Poignant Reflection” which pointed back to it, and I did this for several reasons, mainly to draw attention to the original post (which stands out as a serious and interesting piece), and partly because I did not have anything else ready to post that day and I had to go out, but also because I realized it might be wise to let people know that writer’s block and that depth of despair did not and does not reflect my life at this time.

So, I want to make it clear. I did not down tools. I did not view my work to date on book three as a pile of rubble. I did not go and stare at the wall or the sky line, unresponsive for weeks on end to all who came near me. I have not left my desk for any period greater than about 12 hours (usually no longer than 8) for about three years. I am at my desk seven days a week. I live here. I breathe here. I blog here. I network, catch up with news interesting to me, eat, drink and play games here, but mostly I write here.

“Your Abandoned Desk” was certainly meant as a cry from the heart, but of a writer – not this writer. It was a new approach to showing, rather than telling, what writer’s block is about. That’s why I wrote it in the second person.

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