A Different Kind of Writer’s Block


I haven’t written or worked on my fiction story for several weeks. And I’ve been kinda feeling guilty about that.

So guilty in fact, that I’ve stopped participating in the Twitter games #authorconfession and #WIPJoy even though I wanted to use them to make me stay connected with my story.

True, I’ve been busy. I was in a three week book study and I completed an intense cram session to get my Continuing Education Credits to keep my Personal Training certification. The kids got back into school and I got back into my regular walking routine. However, life is still busy with volunteering at school, multiple appointments for multiple children and myself, and a general lack of energy for me with the post-Christmas blues.

I find myself procrastinating a lot during the day.

You know what that’s like; the kids are at school and I finally have an hour to sit down and write/work? Yeah, I find myself hanging out on Facebook wasting away my time instead of getting down to work.

But this is all beside the point. Well kind of.

This is not the kind of writer’s block I’m talking about.

I’m talking about the Writer’s Block that comes from questioning why you write what you write.

During each month, the month’s of October, November, and December, I wrote a smallish fiction piece. The first two were around 55,000-65,000 words and are almost finished and completely unedited. My December story is approximately 30,000 words and I kind of edited it and was brave enough to post it online.

However, since then I’ve felt weird.

I can’t believe I am writing romance stories. I’m so embarrassed.


Romance! Are you kidding me?


If you asked my husband, he’d probably tell you I’m not exactly the romantic type. Then again, I’m definitely not the type of person to write horror or sci-fi.


I have Genre Writer’s Block.


Now, I know better than to say, “I write Romance and that’s all I’ll ever write.” Truth be told, my desire has always been to write children’s books. But NaNoWriMo made me consider other possibilities.

So I wrote what I knew. I wrote what I was comfortable with.


Honestly, I wrote the kind of book that I would want to read.


And yes, I like to read romance novels. Preferably romance novels with good characters and a story plot that captures my attention. I don’t want to write or read a flakey romance novel.

But…did I just write a flakey romance story?!! And post it online for everyone to see?!!

What are people going to think about me?!


Like I said, I’m not the world’s biggest romantic. However, I do have a very tender heart. And today when I watched this, I understood why I wrote what I do.



I literally sat on the couch and cried with a kleenex box on my lap.

I don’t know why I spend so much time on Facebook. For every kind person and funny joke on Facebook, there are about ten nasty people and twenty ugly memes that attempt to cut someone down.

If you’re on Facebook, you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about. People are downright mean! Judgmental! They say nasty things and it makes me sick!

So here I am, piddling my time away on Facebook, home of the People-With-No-Filters-And-No-Love, avoiding writing a story that is the complete opposite.

Boy meets girl. Boy and girl fall in love despite various struggles. In the end, there is hope that boy and girl will make it all work out. I don’t like “happily ever after.” That’s not real life and I don’t like being unrealistic. Well, not completely unrealistic.

I want to write a story with characters and situations that other people can relate to. And I don’t know if I’m there yet. I know I have a lot of writing to get out of my system before I get to the place where I’ll be proud of the work I do.

But right now, to me, writing romance stories is what works for me.

For me, it’s a way to avoid the nasty people out there. (Stay off Facebook!)

It’s losing myself in a world where people actually care about each other.


It’s a way to restore my faith in humanity. When I write, I am happier because I’m not on Facebook looking at all the political garbage that makes people say and do hateful things and leaves me feeling helpless. Feeling like no one has a conscience anymore.

My intention is, after I finish my next big writing gig (which should be done this afternoon), that I will once again pick up my writing my story that just happens to be a romance. And I will not be ashamed to say that I’m writing a romance story.

Because the world needs more love, not more hate.


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