I sit here staring. They are much better writers then me. I tihnk to myself. They are off telling excellent stories while I sit here dumbfounded. All I can do is star at the stark white page in front of me. To some it comes easy, they see or hear something and can write entire stoies about it. I, on the other hand, sit forever trying to think of something to write about.

Oh! I got it! i’ll write about my writer’s block.