Thought Constipation

     Constipation.
     Such a lovely word.  It has so many great associations to go with it, too.  Abdominal pain, stomach ache, a general feeling of uneasiness and blah.  Maybe you've been through it, maybe you haven't.  That is something I do not want to know.  So please don't tell me.  (Like anyone would admit to it.)
     Oh, yeah.  I've had constipation.
     Thought constipation.

     It happened like this:

     It was a dark and stormy night that had not a cloud in the sky, and the sunset was orange, pink, beautiful, and inspiring.  As I sat on my front porch, pencil in hand and paper laid out on my legs, I watched as a pair of boys rode their bikes past and several people out walking their dogs.  It seemed everyone was enjoying this balmy evening.
     For ten minutes, I stared at my notebook and watched people go by, trying to figure what scene I should start writing next.  It was like my brain was stuck in rut, or running in a loop, or had a scratch that kept making the needle jump back a groove on the record.  Needless to say, I had a case of slight constipation of the mind.
     But I prevailed!
     Once I figured out where I left off, I started writing a sentence that looked like this: Walter went to the funeral, but  (That's what it looked like after I had crossed it out because I had changed my mind about the scene in less than an instant, and I didn't feel like wasting eraser.  So, I wasted graphite instead.)
     After I'd overcome this small setback, I wrote to my heart's delight.  Even when two, and apparently immature, women passed by about twenty yards away and said, “Look, there's a nerd. Hey, Nerd!,” I didn't look up until I'd finished writing my sentence, and by then their short attention span was already focused on something else.
     (By the way, the name calling really did hurt, but I've forgiven them because I've been forgiven by the blood of Jesus.  I actually hope one day I might get to talk to and share Jesus with them. Gotta spread the love, y'all!)
     I quickly refocused on writing.  Soon, I went inside because it was getting chilly, and that's when it descended upon me.
     Another constipation fit.
     I wanted to stop.  I wanted give up and not fight through it.  But I was inspired, and if I could only get through this one rough patch, there would be a gripping and entertaining scene to write.
     So I pushed.
     One dependent clause down.
     Then I finished the sentence.
     Then I squeezed out another and another until I had my character right where I wanted him to be.
     I looked down at my work, and I decided, That was so worth it.

     So, if you feel like you just want to give up on whatever you're working toward, don't.
     You and I both know you will be relieved that I didn't come to your house and give you a three hour lecture on the principle of perseverance and its rewards.  That, and we know you'll find it worth the work in the end.  I know I have.

     Keep on fighting through the constipation, peeps!

Janelle