One of the kinder descriptors of writer's block I've heard is 'skant output'.
I've always thought 'skant' should really only be used in relation to bikinis (in the same way that 'augers' can only really be accompanied by 'well'), but here's 'skant' spinning around above a blank piece of paper like a pea on a string, where it really shouldn't be.
There are many possible causes of writer's block, including: procrastination, low intelligence and muteness. Also, in no particular order: lack of resources such as time, money and skill; limitations such as poverty, literacy and education; and major disruptive events such as war and natural disasters.
If you could choose the cause of your malady I'd be putting my hand up for procrastination and low intelligence over war and natural disasters, but that's just me.
It's at times of skant output that my vague communism-is-theoretically-perfect leanings come to the fore, so let us come together, comrades, and use our giant collective brainium to write a short story.
Let's begin:
It was a dark and stormy night. Mabel had been watching tv and had fallen asleep on the couch when she was woken by a knock, knock, knocking at the door...
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When she answered the door she found it was the mailman, who pulled out of his bag...
a severed head! "Wait a minute" said Mabel "something's not right here. If you're a postman why are you making deliveries at night?"
"Its a new service" said the postman. "Mail delivered... to your front door... at night."
"Oh well then" said Mabel "Why don't you come in. You must be tired from lugging that head around."
So they sat down in the loungeroom and had a cup of tea. Then the postman said...
..."thank you for the cup of tea," passed her the clip-board and a pen and asked her to sign for the head and was on his way, back out into the night, for his next delivery.
The End.
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