Terror of The Blank Page

Terror of the Blank Page
Coming to a theatre near you

Coming to a home near you. Coming to a desk near you.
Coming to haunt you in your sleep. Coming to anxiously greet you when you wake.

What is it about creating from scratch that is utterly terrifying?
I've recently commited to honoring a writing hour every day, rain or shine.
One hour. That's it. I can do that.
Horrifying.

In fact, creating from nothing could be made into a horror movie. Imagine. Slow, scary chanting choir singing as the camera weaves up creaky dark stairs through a room to come upon a desk. There lies a blank computer screen. Or a blank page on the desk. The camera turns to the writer. A look of horror on their face. And, then the cheap suprise! The phone rings. Its a friend. Calling with some gossip. Relief!

Or really?

Procrastination would have to be cast as that friend in the horror film that you trust all the way up to the end, till you discover that they are in on it. Or they are, in fact, the killer!

But, how do you dramatize Procrastination? It comes in the form of the need to clean the bathroom or the need to purchase the right highlighter for your little home office. Its seemingly so trustworthy in its intentions. So docile. Of course its the creative killer.

At least that's what I'm learning. But, WHY do we procrastinate? Why, when usually the things we want most that are good for us are a result of doing the exact opposite?

Fear, perhaps. Fear could be the underlying reason. But, then that would suggest that we fear doing what makes us better. And, that is the part that baffles my mind. Is it really just easier for us to accept our own mediorcity?

Like right now, I just have the sudden desire to clip my nails. I'm only 15 minutes into my writing hour. Forty-five minutes seem like an ocean of minutes. Really? Is this it? Is there where the diabolical treachery comes forth? My own self-sabotage?

I suppose so. But, I'm learning that you sit through the hour anyway. Its training. It primes you. It stretches you. It teaches you discipline. It becomes (eventually) second nature. And, then Inspiration may come to the rescue.

Oh, I really hope so. I'll sit till I find out. I can't clip my nails if I'm typing.