Dear Kitty Winn,
I have a lame problem, and I’m trying to wrack my brain to make it seem less lame and more earth shattering, but in the end, it’s pretty lame. Maybe I am lame. You tell me.
I am working on a book. I think what I have so far is really good, and other people have told me so, but I can’t seem to make any progress on it. My therapist says I have a fear of success, but what I could really use in my stagnant life right now is a little success. I thought about hiring someone to crack the whip and make me write, but I can’t really afford it. As it is, I use every diversion at my command to keep from sitting down in front of the computer, and when I finally do, nothing comes to me.
I don’t expect you to have any miracle psychological or logistical solution, but perhaps you can recommend a drug that’ll help me loosen up a bit and get my fingers flying across the keyboard.
The Procrastinating Pen
What is the writer’s best friend, if not alcohol? Does the name James Joyce ring any bells in your dainty post-everything skull? Where would literature be without booze- you could fill the Library of Alexandria with all the great pages that have been sodden by drink. And then you could burn it down. Perhaps you are not the whiskey guzzling type. Then I suggest you toughen up! Writing isn’t for wusses.
By the way, I would like the name of your therapist. I could stand to have someone pandering to me right now. But maybe thats just my hangover talking.