Lesa Cline-Ransome’s Writerhood : Room with a View
After months of obsessive media coverage and chest tightening election results coupled with razor thin deadlines and extensive revisions, I was worn thin, paralyzed by political fatigue and the overall disappointment of a nation divided. When days, then weeks then one month passed, and my notebook and word documents remained blank, I started to get worried. What does a writer do when writing a grocery list seems like a chore? Vacation to a far off isle was out of the question, but, the answer, I finally found, was much closer to home.
I expected like-minded friends to get me through. They were worse off than I was. I hoped the holidays would give me a boost. They didn’t. Alcohol? Nope. Long walks. Numb. Dance music. Deaf to it. Day after day, I sat at my desk, wondering, What if I can never write another word? I spent an awful lot of time staring into space, seeking serenity and answers.
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