The thing about your deepest and most profound thoughts and ideas is that they are always more niche. Wanderings of our heart, philosophical or moral convictions, and our most niche work may fuel our purpose and ignite stimulating conversations, yet these pieces cannot pull the views that platitude pieces do.
She may not have it beat yet, but she would, the mother told herself. She knew she would find the solution — she just hadn’t yet. She knew she could get better, she just wasn’t better yet. As squelched were the screams of her soul, there was something she could hear. No, she couldn’t hear her soul at all. But this she could feel.
Writer’s block is some giant red dragon that any writer must eventually slay — or wither and be forgotten. We must find our way through some magical castle and conjure the infallible writer’s knight — to help us slay this giant red dragon before every word we have ever written or thought is burned up by the breath of this mysterious beast.