That's the name that my student gave to this exerpt she wrote in her 8th grade creative writing class. I think it sums up writer's block quite well.
Trying to Write
I held the pen in my hand. The feel of
the clean, smooth surface of the wood against my skin. I stared at the blank
crisp sheet of pure white paper, which sat on my desk waiting to fill. My mind
is blank as always. I could never think, it was as if my ideas float away out
of my mind and into the world to get blown away. Crumpled sheets of paper litter
the floor with my dark blue pen marks on it.
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