Dear Writer’s Block,
I shouldn’t even call you writer’s block. You’re too mild to be writer’s block. But I don’t know what else to call you. All I really mean is that I went fishing for my slice and caught nothing. It’s the first morning this month when I haven’t landed a slice idea within just a few minutes of going fishing, the first morning the slices just weren’t biting.
I never like a metaphor that goes on too long, and this one has already become tedious to me, but I’m going to stick with it for one more line. I cast my net wider than usual this morning–read dozens of slices, skimmed every idea in my slicing idea doc (a grand total of 53–not counting the ones I’ve already written), even skimmed through the archives of my own blog–something I virtually never do–searching for an idea.
Nothing.
Which isn’t to say there weren’t ideas.
For instance.
There are 53 ideas in my Slice 2022 Ideas doc. Fifty-three ideas I haven’t written about yet. I saved those ideas because I wanted to write them. But today nothing gave me that writing spark.
I probably skimmed 53 slices written by other slicers this morning. There was most certainly something there I could write about. But I opened and closed tab after tab with nothing.
On my own blog, I reread several of my old posts about cats because surely, if nothing else, I’ve got a cat slice in me today. Maybe I could think of an actual sixth thing to share about Panda. The 4,500 photos of cats that were on my phone two years ago have now grown to 7,876. Is there not something in those extra 3,376 photos to write about?
There’s always that one day in March when we’re all guaranteed a visit from you, writer’s block. Even when the writing feels easy, as this month has for me, there’s always that one day where nothing wants to be written. Every slice idea I think of is a shoulder shrug; it’s all meh and blah and why bother?
I can’t help but think I inadvertently invited you. Just yesterday I was congratulating myself that I’d nearly made it through the whole month without spending time with you, and that was probably enough to open the door and let you in.
But that’s okay. When you arrive, I always feel like you’re going to be staying with me forever, but you’ve always been a temporary guest. Here for a day or two, and then gone. By tomorrow, chances are good that the slices will be biting and getting hooked.
And so today, I’ll do what so many of us do on that one day in March: write about you.
My usual complimentary close is “Best, Elisabeth,” but I’m not sending you my best.
Til next year,
Elisabeth
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My theme for Slice of Life 2022 is finding inspiration in the writing of others. Each day I plan to find my slice in someone else’s words or forms. Mrs Bruno Writes has written all of her slices this month in the form of letters, which gave me the idea to write a letter to my writer’s block.
the dirigible plum 
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