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I recently had one hell of a time writing an analysis essay for an English class, so eventually I gave in and analyzed writer's block. I was surprised at how well (I think) it turned out, considering that I was only half awake when I wrote it. Perhaps I should write late at night more often.

<c>Pulling the Short Straw</c>

In my experiences with writing, I have found that it is sometimes a seamless flow of ideas to words on a page. Other times, though, writing is downright torturous. The perpetually blinking cursor, mocking me from a blank screen, drives me to the very limits of sanity as I desperately search for subjects to analyze. The hours creep along, but I make no progress. My greatest efforts to conjure a topic fail utterly. At best, I manage to generate a few sentences of jumbled thoughts which I quickly discard for their sheer mediocrity. Now sitting in silence, and staring once again at the incessant blinking of the horrible cursor, I concede - my will to continue, finally stretched beyond its limits on the rack of frustration, is broken; I am defeated. But in my darkest moment, hunched over and scowling at the keyboard, inspiration strikes. The very beast that torments me shall be my vehicle to freedom - I will craft an analysis of the creature that I have come to know so well - writer's block.

In its infancy, writer's block is unrecognizable. The unsuspecting victim is nonchalantly searching for subject matter, playing with whatever ideas come immediately to mind. These ideas, however, do not suit the author's taste, will not lend themselves well to the intended theme of writing, or are arbitrarily discarded in hopes of discovering something better. The author may think to himself, "I have plenty of time to find a topic that I like, I'll dwell on this further tomorrow." But much to his dismay, the he will soon find that these words were not his own - they are the roots of writer's block, slowly weaving through his mind; marking the first true sign of the intangible beast: delays in selecting a topic. And so the demon, its fire kindled by the tinder of procrastination, silently festers in the author's brain, waiting for an opportune moment when it can fully emerge from the womb of its host's subconscious. The next time writer's block is encountered, it will be in its second, more hideous incarnation.

When the author re-embarks upon his quest for a topic, he comes face to face with the fiend. Appalled, he prepares to do battle with the great beast and vanquish it before it is allowed to reach full maturity. He arms himself with the gleaming sword of brain-storming and the hardy axe of outline-making, then charges headlong at his nemesis, meaning to smite it in a single, massive onslaught. But these weapons do not avail him, for the beast's shield of ignorance is broad and resilient. The author, humbled by his defeat, attempts to devise a new method of slaying the writer's block. He discusses his plight with friends and family members in hopes of an outside perspective imparting insights that will aid him in this task. Some ideas that he finds using this method seem at first to fend the abominable block off, but the beast always returns - now by way of false starts and dead ends, which deter the author most of all. And yet, there is hope left still, though it may be hidden in the most unlikely place: the beast itself.

Writer's block has become the champion of the author's mind and will allow no fresh ideas or well-worded phrases pass through unhindered. The author, his thoughts devoid of anything but the block itself, despairs at his condition. But in this final hopelessness, he spots a weakness in the beast's scales. In its complete domination of the author's thoughts, the block reveals a method by which it may be destroyed - the author must use his bane to achieve salvation; he will use writer's block itself as a topic to analyze. And thus it is by the most improbable means that the beast is ultimately cast down and slain. Being free of his torment, the author reclaims the realm of his thoughts, and the people rejoiced.

Writer's block, the sworn enemy of essayists, novelists, and journalists of all races and creeds, is most effectively combated with logic, patience, and perhaps most of all, an ability to acknowledge that not everything we write can be on a subject that truly appeals to us. It seems that the harder one struggles against writer's block, the more powerful it becomes, until a maximum point of frustration is reached, and in cases where a time restraint is present, the author must yield to whatever topic he pulls out when grasping at the metaphorical straws.