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I have been struggled against my writing malaise for some time - since February 14th if you were keen to know the date on which I was afflicted upon me - and during that time I have sat at my keyboard (or in front of a blank piece of paper) and written bits and pieces that seem apos;not meapos; somehow.

I have started stories and then ignored them which is, again, something that I find very apos;not meapos;. Once, long ago, I could come back to my stories I just write pages - even after weeks or months.

But I never finished any of them. Even before the accident I always got to a point where I was just writing and not telling a story.

I recently worked out that one of the reasons that I didnapos;t finish my stories was that I had tried reading the Lord of the Rings trilogy in high school and then in my twenties. And, oh my God, they sucked. Pages of mindless droning nothing followed by short bursts of violent actions to be followed by yet more pointless dribble. I never finished them - I got about halfway through the second one, whatever it was called, and just couldnapos;t force myself to open the bloody thing again.

Now the reason I mention this, is that the problem I have with my writing (or the problem that I once had when I was writing) is that I couldnapos;t force myself past the middle of the story. Even though I was writing it, I just couldnapos;t find anything in it worth continuing with.

Anyway, Iapos;m going now.
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