Writing Ruts: When a Labor of Love Becomes Hard Labor

Recognize this?

I’ve been sitting here staring at a blinking cursor for nearly an hour.

Before that, the words were crawling onto the page at the pace of a slug, each line dragging on behind the other in a continuous stream of “blah” as I try to make another dollar; another deadline. I thought if I just pushed myself, I would wrap this one up in a jif.