It’s 2 am and I’m staring at a computer screen while the blinking insertion point is mocking me. I take a break from my soon to be Pulitzer Prize winning post about my hatred of restaurants that don’t serve breakfast 24 hours and scan through ChicagoNow. Every day I read some truly amazing posts and I know I am surrounded by amazing and talented writers. Yet I sit here trying to rack my brain for jokes about chorizo omelettes. Spoiler alert, there aren’t any. Still though, I sit back and read the 26 letters of the alphabet that someone else has strung together to make a word, then a sentence, then a paragraph, and suddenly it hits me: Writer’s block is awesome.
The condition of writer’s block is usually dreaded. Imagine you are extremely constipated but nothing is coming out. You sit on the toilet and all birds have been angered and all candy has been crushed yet not a drop of poop has come out. Now imagine that but with your brain. You know there are ideas in there somewhere but for some reason they’re stuck, holding on so tightly you’d think my girlfriend was driving (Sorry honey, you scare the shit out of me). There’s a few exercises you can do to get over your writer’s block and usually the most successful is to simply just write.
This week I had a lot of half way decent ideas. I thought of writing about Edward Snowden and his interview with Brian Williams. I thought about the aforementioned 24 hour breakfast policy that all restaurants should have and my favorite this week, the stupidity of the spelling bee. (And fucking seriously ESPN, you gave that more time than the Rangers winning?!) Still, I couldn’t come up with enough jokes for those as my brain went into hibernation mode. Maybe it was the long weekend, but all of the Edward Snowden jokes I could think of were about the creepiness of the US Government being able to spy on my porn habits (There were some solid gold jokes in there folks, sorry you are missing out).
So back to the blinking insertion point. Instead of forcing myself to make fun of 5th grade Indian kids who can spell pneumoencephalographical without the aid of Google, I decided to read instead. I read the most incredible posts from my fellow ChicagoNow writers. I read about how CM Punk should give us, his hometown fans, a proper farewell, I read a story about a man who simply wanted an egg roll but wound up with a brain tumor. and my personal favorite, a really funny, witty and eye opening piece about the word pussy. Seriously, check these out.
Without my writer’s block, I may have not had a chance to take in these and other great posts. I also wouldn’t have come up with this blog about writer’s block. Every idea comes from somewhere, and sometimes, taking a step back and smelling the roses is about as good of a place to start. Now, someone help me come up with a joke about waffles for dinner. Something something because they're waffly good...something... I swear I can think of something better.