I need to make a deposit in the word bank.

January 12, 2012

When I was in the 4th grade I received an A on a writing assignment.  I had to describe an inanimate object.  I chose to write about the pen with which I was writing.

I remember very little of my childhood, but I remember that assignment because it was there that the love of writing was birthed in me.  I have written (but not published) several books for children, and writing assignments in school always seemed to be the easiest things I had to do.  Even in college, thought pieces, essays and analysis always came easier than other assignments.

So, imagine the kerfuffle I find myself in, being at a loss for words.  It’s not as if I have had an encounter with the supernatural, and am at a loss for words in awe.  It’s not because I was knocked on the noggin and can’t remember how to write (at least I don’t remember being knocked on the noggin). I haven’t been writing or talking a lot, so I am not overdrawn at the word bank.  It’s not because I am afraid, aflame or afoul of the law.  I am simply at a loss for words.

I have dozens of dribs and drabs of drafts; half completed thoughts of.

Sort of like that, only longer.

So now, a week has gone by and I have posted nothing new.  Re-runs don’t even work.

So I will wait a bit longer, and hope I don’t have to take up painting.

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