What does a writer do when they have writer’s block? When the blank screen looms, and the cursor flashes, and the word count says zero? I don’t know about other writers, but here’s what I do—I open my laptop, stare at the screen for a while, and tell my cats that I can no longer write and have decided to retire. Then I start playing with words. The following is the result of last night’s bout with writer’s block.
‘Tis a night like all others—Monty’s fast asleep.
My cats are right next to me, not making a peep.
It’s three a.m. and I’m writing—a poem so bad—
I’m using a rhyme scheme that could drive me mad.
I don’t mind the nighttime—not anymore—
I love the time and the quiet, though Seamus does snore.
I’ve decided to embrace it—this being awake,
My time is nighttime and I’m happy this way.
Sometimes I feel a bit like a bat—
I come alive at nightfall, much like my cats.
I’ve stopped trying to sleep when others do;
I dream while awake and hope it comes true.
Insomniac? No. I sleep when I need to;
It’s just later than most when I finally do.
I used to be plagued by fear at night—
thinking that sleep would never be mine.
But since I gave up trying and embraced staying up,
The anxiety’s gone and I can’t get enough—
of the quiet, my boys—this is when I thrive;
it’s around two in the morning that I feel most alive.
I’ve stopped fighting my nature and waved the white flag.
And when I’m not blocked, I’m writing like mad.
I stay up ‘til sunrise, then say good night to the boys;
I head straight to bed and try not to make noise.
Unconventional? Yes. But it works great for me.
After a lifetime of insomnia, I’m finally free.
I cannot “do” mornings, but it seems only fair—
Since I sleep when it’s sunrise, without a worry or care.
I see now out my window that the sun’s starting to rise,
So I’ll head to bed—that would be wise.
And when I get there, I’ll read for a while,
If I can manage to pick just one book from my pile.
There’s a message in this “poem”—from my heart to yours—
Give yourself permission to just not conform.
For whatever it is that you want to do,
Do it right now—and let you be you.
So good morning to most of you, to the rest, good night.
I hope you slept well; I know I’ll sleep tight.
“I like the dark part of the night, after midnight and before
four-thirty, when it’s hollow, when ceilings are harder and farther away. Then I can breathe, and can think while others are sleeping, and in a way can stop time.”Dave Eggers
This used to be Monty’s and my nightly routine—Monty is Andrea Bocelli, and I’m Elmo in this scenario.
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Comments 6
You inspire me….thanks for letting all of us insomniacs off the hook! I love how you’ve embraced what works for you instead of fighting it every night; every time I can’t sleep, I think of your advice! It also helps to know you are up, too, when I’m not sleeping! I’m with Klara on this one…wherever did you find this video?! It’s perfect!! You say you had writers block and then you write this! You are truly an amazing writer!!! Sooo glad you are my sister!!
Thank you so much, Lisa. I like knowing that you’re up, too. About the video–I was looking for “good night” songs on youtube, and found that one. And I couldn’t believe how accurate it was! Poor Monty has been Andrea Bocelli so many times–“Time to say good night”–and then there’s me being Elmo, saying, “Elmo wants some water and another story!” Ah, such life lessons from Sesame Street! Thank you for your encouragement. Love you!
Lots of memories for me in this post and like Monty, you made me laugh and smile as I read it. Great that you are able to stay true to you own rhythm or pattern of sleeping. We learned to rhyme when very young, we had to make a funny one for the person who got our gift at Saint Nicolas each year. I continued the tradition for my ex and children each Christmas. They would get one to be read out before they were allowed to open their presents, they loved it and were often in tears with laughter. It was loads of fun.
As for sleep, I hated going to bed, I feared the night more than the day for many years, it traumatised me for many years.While young my mom made us go early each night, later due to my work and having to get up early I had no choice but to choose to go at a reasonable time. Now I sleep much better, especially after a prayer warrior taught me to imagine ” Angels wingtip to wingtip all around my bed facing outward and guarding me. That and God’s armour on each night. I love the Elmo and Andrea song, where on earth did you find that one–great description.
Klara, I feel like you add so much to my posts! I love your rhyming tradition for Christmas–I would have loved that as a child. I’d love it now! Your story about sleep and fearing the night–oh, I so understand that. I used to dread the onset of darkness, knowing I’d have to go to bed and wouldn’t sleep. I’m going to savor that image of angels “wingtip to wingtip” around my bed. That’s just beautiful. Thank you for commenting, my friend and kindred spirit.
This makes me smile and laugh every time I read it! Although I can’t get the song out of my head now…
Because you know, Monty! I used to ALWAYS want another story . . . thanks for your comment.