The Wall
When you hit a block
He stared at the screen in front of him with a blank expression on his face. Nothing was coming to mind. There were no thoughts. No ideas. No plots. Nothing. Just emptiness.
Thomas had been working on his story for weeks now, and on the fourth week, he hit a wall. A wall that was so dark and thick that it seemed impenetrable. There was no way over the wall. It was too tall. There was no way around the wall. It went on for miles. And there was no way through the wall. It was simply too wide. It was hopeless. So all he could do was sit and stare at it, hoping and praying that it crumbles to dust.
Feeling helpless, he sat in front of the wall and stared off into space. Perhaps if he waited long enough, the wall would take care of itself, and he wouldn’t have to worry about it. So that’s what he did. He waited. And waited. He pulled out a book and read it, attempting to find some inspiration from the flow of words on the pages. Nothing.
After waiting for what seemed like forever, he stood and started to walk along the wall and hope the end wasn’t as far as it seemed. Along the way, he came across a garden of roses. The bushes were full and green, with roses of every color. Although they were lovely, he ultimately decided that he simply can not use them. So he continued his walk.
Soon enough, he came across a leprechaun, guarding what seemed to be a door at the base of a rainbow.
“What’s through the door?” he asked the leprechaun with curiosity.
“Find out for yourself,” was the response he received.
His curiosity was getting to him, and he went to open the door. Anticipation and excitement were rushing through his body. He could feel the blood pulsing through his veins as his heartbeat increased. The door was heavy, and the knob was rusted, but he pulled anyway. After a couple of strong pulls, it opened before him. His heart was leaping as he peeked inside to find…
Nothing useful. Another wall. He was sure he had found something he could use, but ultimately it turned out to be nothing but a dead end. He bid the leprechaun goodbye and continued his walk.
There were many other things he came across on his walk. A robber running from a cop. A cat with it’s head stuck in a bowl. A giant falling in love with a princess. But none of them were things he could use. So he continued walking.
Thomas started to wonder if he would ever reach the end of the wall. With every step he took, and with every empty idea he came across, he lost a little bit more hope.
Needing a break, he sat against the wall and rested. As he did, he let his mind wander. He started letting anything and everything flood his mind. Some ideas were good, most of them were terrible, but at least he was thinking.
Breaking through the wall, Thomas started writing. His fingers danced across the keyboard, creating magic out of nothing. The words fell into place like pieces of a satisfying puzzle, creating a beautiful picture. The wall was a thing of the past. Or so he thought.
As he approached the ending of his story, he ran into another wall. This one was larger and more intimidating than the one before, and he had no idea how long it would take to overcome. With a heavy sigh, he started walking.
