Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-26512885-20150807020400

Writers block

Vincent sat back in his chair, sighing as he gazed blank-eyed at the empty word document.

Leaning back he surveyed his study. The early morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a beam of dusty golden light across the otherwise dark room.

As he continued to search for inspiration, his eyes fell upon a dusty copy of a novel. His last, and first, book. A gentle smile spread across his face as he recalled the huge success of the book.

It had been a total of five years since Vincent had written his first book. Its success had prompted him to give up his day-job and focus solely on his hobby turned Career. Initially, the change had seemed good but had soon soured as he found that it was one thing to happen across one good idea and a whole new ball game to write for a living.

It was that plight that lead Vincent to his current predicament. He knew exactly what he needed, inspiration. Yet no matter where he looked, what he did... he still found himself spending day after day in the same old room with a blank document sat before him, taunting him.

That's it, he thought to himself. I need a change of scenery. New sources, new stimulation for his writing.

Content with his solution Vincent roused himself from the worn red leather chair and made his way towards the front door. Catching his reflection in the mirror he noted his dishevelled appearance.

"Ah well, the walk will do me good." A good three hours later Vincent returned. It was a warm day and his shirt was damp with sweat, originating in the armpits and seeping down his sides slightly.

With a renewed vigour and child-like spring in his step, Vincent plonked himself down and began writing. The ideas flowed seamlessly onto the page. The stream of literacy brilliance interrupted only when he paused to take the occasional sip from his coffee.

The next morning Vincent awoke early, the youthful glee and swirling maelstrom of ideas in his head had subsided slightly from the day previous. Eager to experience the same feeling again Vincent decided he would have a walk out and buy a paper to read before breakfast.

As before the walk filled him with ideas and as he perused the paper over his morning porridge he jotted down the ideas on a scrap of paper as so not to forget them.

Vincent continued this trend for some time, his favourite section was always the missing person page. He found that it really stimulated his mind and granted a new perspective to his writing.

A mere month later and Vincent had finished his novel, a collection of short horror stories. The vast majority orientating around the concept of a stereotypical killer kidnapping your girls off the street and 'disposing of them' in a wide variety of sadistic ways.

Shortly after the completion of the novel it was published and sold even better than his previous attempt. The critics loved it and the resultant reviews caused the book to go like hotcakes.

Sliding back into his large leather chair Vincent smiled, no wonder it was a success he thought to himself. After all, as the proverb goes, experience is the best teacher.  