Help...
Help. I want to write. It makes me feel better when I write. I'm happier. Calmer. In control. I love writing.
But I'm blocked. Writer's block. A giant block. A giant block the size of...a really...big...thing.
It doesn't help that I submitted a story to a "Washington Post" contest and I didn't even make the short list. It's a little disheartening because I didn't even rate a rejection letter. I only found out by reading the list of winners. I like rejection letters. They give something tangible to remind me of my work.
Help. I have no inspiration. It's like I'm drowning.
Help.