WRITER BLOCK

I started suffering from writer block as soon as I started writing and though it seemes unfair, one gets the idea that it comes with the pack, doesn't it? Well, at least this the most comfortable thing to think, isn't it.
My problem with the blocking is that I CAN think of things to write about, but when I get to it, I just can't. I don't find the how and it immediatly gets me all grumpy and stuff.
Especially, romantic things get in my heda and I just can't pull them out, and although I know love is an essential part in my life, I know that if I could separate it from my writing business, I would be highly productive. It's not that I haven't been productive so far. I have written about short stories, 100 rims of poetry and a novel.
But this writer block is pissing me off like nothing.

THE CALM DOWN BUSINESS part II

It was not very well known at the time in the little town, but Jerry sold sedatives and antis-stress pills, painkillers and muscles relaxants. Yet he never took them himself. It was bad for the business, imagine an alcoholic barman; he would surely jeopardize the economy of the bar, wouldn't he?
One day, the day it all happened, Jerry was sitting behind the desk going over some due bills and his accounting books. It was tax time, the time when a man should not be told any joke concerning money. So, there he was, papers in one hand and his head resting on the other, the elbow fatly looked foraccommodationn on the glass. Then a man walked in his office, the bell connected to the front door hadn't gone off so Jerry did not register his presence there because he man was as quite as a mouse. He was almost as tall as Jerry was or perhaps a bit taller. Thin and bearded. He wore a clean and fit black suit (not bought at Jerry's), cream-colored shirt and a tie as black as the suit. He stood there, just a step inwards from the door with his hands crossed over his crotch, he looked at Jerry muttunintelligiblybly about numbers and papers and shuffle them with one hand, the other was busy holding the head.
- I'm told that here I can find and buy sedative drugs.

Ok, This is what we're gonna do: I'm gonna start posting a story by parts and you comment on the tagboard telling me what you think of it and what you think should happen next, ok?

THE CALM DOWN BUSINESS

It all started in a small shop in a little town to the south in Dakota, and it all ended the same day it started.
Jerry Knox was a salesman, he ran his own business selling and renting tuxedos and gowns for weddings. There were also hats, gloves, ties and dresses for the little girls who usually toss flower petals before the couple walks down the aisle. Jerry was a tall guy, not very but tall anyway. And he was fat too, he had a belly that looked as if he has swallowed a basketball. He was a calm fellow who lived with his wife and two children five blocks away from his shop in Dakota.
But he also ran another business yet not a different shop. He had both establishments in tip-top shape in the same place. You see, there was an office behind the main hall where the tuxes and gowns were. The office was also used as a warehouse for the dresses and fabrics, but it was not uncomfortable, it was quite nice. There was a big desk which top was covered by a large piece of thick glass, under the glass there were pictures of Annie-Lee, his wife, and his kids Tommas and Ronald. Tommy and Ronnie. A big comfortable chair stood behind the desk and in front of it two more chairs, not as big as Jerry's but comfortable as well.
And in the left bottom drawer of the desk was Jerry's other business: The calm down business.


Ok, so I will wait to see what you think.

This is a quote (esta es una cita) that I want to add to a second edition (que quiero añadir a una seguna edición) of my novel (de mi novela.). Enjoy (Disfruten.).


"...The city of Jahilia is built entirely of sand, its structures formed of the desert whence it rises. It is a sight to wonder at: walled, four-gated, the whole of it a miracle worked by its citizens, who have learned the trick of transforming the fine with dune-sand of those forsaken parts,- the very stuff of inconstancy,- the quintessence of unsettlement, shifting, treachery, lack-of-form,- and have turned it, by alchemy, into the fabric of their newly invented permanence. These people are a mere three or four generations removed from their nomadic past, when they are as rootless as the dunes, or rather rooted in the knowledge that journeying itself was home..."

Salman Rushdie
THE SATANIC VERSES


"...La ciudad de Jahilia está construida enteramente de arena. Sus estructuras están formadas del levante del desierto. Es una visión para maravillarse: amurallada, con cuatro puertas. Es, en su totalidad, un milagro hecho por sus ciudadanos, quienes han aprendido el truco de transformar la fina arena de las dunas de estas partes remotas -el componente mismo de la inconstancia-, la quintaesencia de la inestabilidad: cambiante, alevosa, amorfa-, y la han convertido, con alquimia, en la tela de su pemanencia recientemente inventada. Esta gente son tres o cuatro generaciones removidas de su pasado nomádico, que tienen tan pocas raíces como las dunas; o mejor, están arraigados en la seguridad de que la travesía misma es el hogar..."

Salman Rushdie
LOS VERSOS SATÁNICOS