
What to Do about Zombies, and Writer’s Block, Even Though They Don’t Exist
Yesterday, while in the car, my daughter asked me what she should do if she ever sees a zombie. I said, “Zombies don’t exist” and kept driving.
“But what should I do,” she asked, “if I ever see one?”
I was trying to hear something on the radio, something important that happened that I wanted to understand, and said again, “Zombies don’t exist.”
“No,” she said, “what should I do if I ever see one?”
Finally, I gave in. I told her that if she ever saw a zombie she should get away as fast as possible, because zombies like to eat brains. I also said that zombies are pretty dumb so she could probably escape by climbing a tree or hiding in a ditch.
This morning, I sat down to write about writer’s block. I wrote: I don’t like the term “writer’s block.” I wanted to say because I don’t believe it exists or because I think it’s lazy, but the words just didn’t come. I was blocked.

What Do You Do When You Lose Inspiration?
When you forget what you were doing and why you were doing it?
Well.
I think you sit with not doing it for a while. Just sit. Not working.
Then, continue to live your life. See how that feels.
If the project leaves you alone, great. You’re free of it. Go live your beautiful life.
But, if the project doesn’t leave you alone – if it pulls at your sleeve like a child, and floats through your mind while you’re doing the dishes, you know you have to get back to it.

Pulling Ourselves Together: How Building Our Timelines Can Help Us Remember Our Stories
So you want to write a memoir but are lost on how to get started. You have lived such a long life - eras, even. How do you even begin?
My advice?
Begin right where you are, with the time you have. If you’re inspired to write a specific story, great - start there. If you don’t know where to start, boy do I have a project for you.

How Writers Find Time to Write
When I was expecting my daughter, I put a baby swing in my office with the idea that she would happily swing away while I happily wrote. Anyone who has ever raised a human knows that that is not what happened. She liked the swing well enough but not for the hours I needed to get anything done. And holding her in the Baby Bjorn while I typed was equally as foolhardy.