Now this is interesting. Turns out all that daydreaming I’ve done is good for me. Actually, I knew that already. All of my books are heavily influenced by daydreams I’ve had for years.
Now I have writer’s block, big time. And you know what? I don’t daydream anymore. My daydreams always came from a place of loneliness, longing, and ambition. These days, my life is too good. There’s no desperation pushing at me to find a path out of my current situation, or to accomplish what everyone told me I couldn’t. Except for my tendency to worry, I have very few problems to solve. Maybe it’s time to embrace those crazy worries and see if I can fix them. Maybe then I can finish a book.