The Blank Screen


I envy writers from the past. Not because they are dead, but because their challenges were not so vast. Though I can not imagine the hardships of writing and rewriting on a typewriter (I am old enough to have haunting memories of working on those infernal contraptions for school projects), writing on the computer is far more intimidating.

Lots of writers have whined about the blank page mocking them.

They are pussies.

A blank page is just one page. A blank notebook is merely a hundred blank pages. A blank ream of pages is just a blank ream of pages.

To be truly intimidated by the possibilities brought upon us by modern technology change applications on your computer and get on to your Microsoft Word.  Hit enter. Keep hitting enter. Keep your finger locked on the enter button as you sleep for eight hours. The cursor continues to go down and down and down for eternity. There are not enough forests in the world to supply the pages that fill your screen ad infinitum.

The blank screen mocks you. For however spectacular your idea might be it will seem insignificant with the magnitude of possibilities.


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