I keep writing the same paragraph over and over and over and nothing works, so I start over again.

The next day I begin again. And it is maddening, it makes me crazy, and I want to quit but I can't. I have to keep trying because what else is there to do?

Apparently this is the life of a writer. So, no big pity party for me. It is the curse. Or gift. Or blessing. Or curse. Yet to be determined.

And then comes the doubt. "Will I ever write again? Is this the end?"

And of course the answer is simple. If it is the end...then it will be the end.

And then I think back on artists that had one-hit-wonders. There are many. And I wonder what happened to them next? Did they despair?

Are they living in a duplex somewhere collecting coins or stamps or beating their dog for crapping on their cheap linoleum floor?

Do they get up every morning and write the same paragraph/lyric over and over again?

Or maybe they took up macrame, or water color painting, or origami. Or horticulture or body piercing.

And I'm not even a one-hit-wonder. I'm a no-hit-nobody.