Nothing to say…

I’ve lost the desire to write.

Creatively, mind you. Give me a 550-word assignment on “basement refinishing” optimized with a keyword density of 1.5% and I’ll have it for you in 20 minutes. Ask me to write a moving blog post about the holiday season however, and you’ll be waiting a while. This has nothing to do with whether I had a fulfilling Christmas or not — it was a nice albeit quiet one — but it’s a matter of heart.

I have to admit I’ve been in a funk lately, but that has never had a bearing on my writing before. In fact, I write best when emotionally charged, no matter which direction. Depression? A writer’s best friend.

No, this is something different. It’s an indifference almost. I imagine it’s something like what people feel when in shock. Or grief. Going through the motions of life, taking some time to feel emotions here and there, but mostly shutting out all around you in hopes that the triggers that bring on the avalanche of feelings remain hidden.

Right here, right now — I want to write, but the words won’t come…