as someone who wishes to be able to call themselves a writer, i am often plagued with writer’s block. there is a story within me, sure, and it’s waiting to burst forth… and maybe that is the issue in itself. it’s waiting… and waiting… and waiting… and waiting. therefore i have to wait… and wait… and wait… and wait. i often tell people that my book/novel is a book/novel that i just am not ready to write, so i’ll just wait until i have more life experience, or until my vocabulary is more eloquent and mellifluous and my grammar is without fault, or until i go to university, when i’ll have time to write and take a class in writing – yeah, that’s it! i have to take a class in writing. but all of these are just excuses, and thinly veiled ones at that.