I’m stuck. Well, not exactly stuck. I know what’s going to happen next in Eros. I don’t even have that much left to write. But somehow the words aren’t flowing. I sit down after work or at the weekends and, instead of feeling my fingers fly over the keys (which I do sometimes when the stars align), I’m barely managing a paragraph. Occasionally two if I’m lucky. I’ve been telling myself that it’s the end of the year. I’m tired. There is literally only half a day left of my day job at school before we break for the Christmas holidays. And goodness knows, if there’s any job that takes it out of you, it’s teaching. Secretly, however, I know I’m just making excuses. Is it writer’s block?
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