Facebook. The Art of Finding Ideas. The Writer’s Block Issue 3: Writing Through Envy. This Issue is going to be a difficult one. In fact, I put this off until the day before my column was to run just because I found the subject matter so personal, though I guess that is what this column is all about. I want to be able to delve into what makes me tick as a writer, and in some cases what breaks my writerly clock. In this case, I think that envy is something that affects most writers and artists of any sort. For myself, it can be absolutely debilitating, and entirely self-inflicted.
Throughout my time on this earth I have been immensely proud of my writing. I’ve always had a dream of one day being able to work at home, sipping coffee in front of my computer in a sunlit room. I would finally be content with my life. This is the crux of my personal writer’s block. The way I reacted to all of this was not something I am very proud of to this day, but they remain my own admittedly warped feelings. About The Author Tristan Biggs. AdviceToWriters - Home. The Defeatist « Games Perverts Play. Claire was a beautiful woman. There was no denying that. And when she returned my flirtations in the bar down the street from my work, the bar the guys always call a “meat market” but which rarely if ever produced actual couplings, I worked up the courage to ask her out and she said yes.
And this was an incredible thing to me because Claire was the kind of beautiful that I think most guys find intimidating. I was so comfortable with her that I took a dump in her place on our second date. They were beyond ugly. I am not superficial. I am also not perfect. After the date, I tried to put her feet out of my mind. After the third date, a colleague noticed me staring into nothingness at work and said, “you’re in love.”
“If only,” I said. “You’re in lust,” he said. “It’s not that simple,” I replied. “You’re in lust with a girl you’re in love with,” he said. I got up and went to the coffee machine. Then there were the photos of the bound feet from China. I did not call her for two days. “Why?”