Writer's block; the list you love to hate

I can't write my Finnegan story. It is as simple as, I have my reasons. What reasons, you ask? You want the sad story of my writer's blocking tactics? You asked.

1. I can't write it because I have a list of priorities that do not include going back and picking up where I left off. I prefer to move forward and not dwell on the past. What am I really saying?

2. I can't write it because if I do, someone will inevitably compare my story to Hank the Cowdog (I should be so lucky), even though my dog is not a mangy mutt and does not own the title, Head of Ranch Security. People will say I copied this idea. Plagiarized it, with intent to deceive. I do not wish to be considered a deceitful person.

3. There is no way my story would be as funny or cynical or witty as John R. Erickson's tales, " the longest running successful children's series on audio ever." I might as well forget about Finn and his stairwell cat encounter and focus on something else, like dinner.

4. I am ticked about the unfairness of this prior claim. I finally have a quirky dog with voice and I can't write the dang tale because some guy beat me to it. I know I am not from Texas and I have never been a ranch manager and my sense of humor is subtle and Scandinavian unlike that Devil in Texas deal-i-o. Truth be told, I resent the fact that I am NOT John R. Erickson. If I were John R. Erickson, I would have already overcome writer's block and anger and fear and I would be writing. Being as I am NOT John R. Erickson, not even the same sex as John R. Erickson, I resent the day I was born female in a Garrison Keillor world.

5. There are simply not enough library shelves for my books and his. It's like shopping at the grocery store. What ever happened to plain old rich but never bitter coffee? Gourmet coffee stole its shelf space. I am not claiming to be rich but never bitter or Gourmet. I'm just saying libraries have run out of space and have to pick and choose and what they are choosing is John R. Erickson and his talking dog.

6. Lassie barked like a normal dog and she got prime time television. I can bark, but my bark does not contain the bite of a collie. This is why I am not writing for prime time television. I turn on prime time television. But do I see my dog stories reflected there? No! This is prejudicial to my rights as a barking person. I am being discriminated against and I have yet to begin.

7. My kids would NOT like to see themselves within the pages of a dog book- or any book for that matter. I might misrepresent their fatal flaws; they might disown me. I could not live without their love and affection, therefore, I will not consider writing stories about Finnegan.

8. I would not write stories of Finnegan even if I disparaged the dog and not my children. There is always the slim chance that I might reveal intimate details to the world. The Press would have a heyday should my children choose to run for political office! I would be the instrument of their demise...

Sorry, pundits would say, you never picked up a pile of poop in your life. Gotta deal shit to be a politician, kid.

9. I am not going to write this story. If I were to write it, I might become famous: my lawn might be trampled by autograph seekers, my husband might divorce me, and I might no longer be able to wallow in John R. Erickson's success.

10. Oh gosh, the sun has set on another day...

"Don't take anything for granite, cuz that's what tombstones are made of..." Hank the Cowdog