Sometimes, it's easy. Sometimes the words flow from my brain to the hand that forms them, unheeded, uninterrupted, like a clear, summer spring. Sometimes the words are beautiful and poetic. My descriptions are unique, but not distracting. They paint the exact image that I want, better than I expected them to. Sometimes I'm humbled by my own ability, so proud of the work that I've done that I'm excited to show it to anyone who will pay it a moment's attention, or so in love with it that I'm hesitant to share it at all.

And sometimes, I'm actively angry at myself for even trying to write. Sometimes it feels as though there's some sort of wall erected in my head, blocking away the beautiful words and brilliant ideas from flowing anywhere at all. Sometimes I feel helpless and incapable, staggering along as I'm forced to form even the simplest of sentences.

Okay, here I am: trying to express the beauty of this female character, and I need to do it in a way where my readers feel awed by her physicality as well. What's the best way to do that?

She was pretty... and she had these eyes... and stuff...

Nailed it.

Sometimes I try to force that wall to fall away, try to tear it down so that the beautiful summer stream can start flowing again. I try to force my head to fall into the place where it needs to be, because my heart is already there and the two aren't aligned. I want to write. More than anything else in this world, I want to write, because few things make me feel happy and fulfilled the way that writing does, but it just. Doesn't. Happen.

And when that happens, I'm struck by just how boring I am. What am I if I can't write? What do I do with my time? Who am I if not a writer?

What if I can never write again? What if this becomes a habit that I fall into and never pull myself out of? What would become of me? Where would I cultivate my life's meaning?

But every single time, something happens that tears that wall down, and the summer spring starts flowing from head to hand once again, and I'm fine. I'm better than fine, in fact - my mind is humming, and I'm completely aligned and everything is as it should be.

Published by Ciara Hall