Originally posted on my old blog on October 29th, 2016.

(This was written some time ago, in fact, it was one of the first things that I wrote when I decided to just start writing again for the hell of it. This blog is the product of that plan, and there is definitely more to come. It is not a reflection of where I am now, but rather where I was at the time.)

Sitting here and staring at the huge expanse of screen in front of me, I am unable to think of anything funny or indeed interesting to write.

It is at this point that I am reminded that whilst talking to some other comedians/comedy writers the other day I proudly said that I don’t suffer from writer’s block. Yet, here I am. Ha! In your face!

Like a sculptor with no prior plans and a fucking huge piece of stone staring back at me. It can sometimes be a bit overwhelming.

So if I can think of nothing, where are these words coming from? Well my brain, then ultimately from my fingers to the keyboard.

Having had some small amount of success with writing over the years I have had literally some people ask me where I get my ideas from. The honest answer to that is – Who knows?

My stock answer is I keep bashing my head off my desk until some words fall out in some sort of order.

Sometimes I can be idly staring into the middle distance, looking entirely to the untrained observer that I am thinking of nothing beyond when I can justifiably go get another cup of tea, when the muse strikes. The last time the muse went on strike, I ended up with a five day working week, and agreeable conditions.

Sometimes ideas come from me moving ideas and words around in my head, like a lexicographical game of Tetris. I wait for that long thin word to slide down the gap that I have made and suddenly several lines make sense and I have something.

Often, like any writer, I rely on reusing some of my older ideas. I hate to break this to you, but every artist or creative person does this. I am afraid that it is impossible for anyone bar the greatest geniuses to build everything from the ground up every time. To use that hoary old phrase – There is no point reinventing the wheel.

I am currently, amongst other things, working on my second children’s book. (The first one is nestling on my hard drive, with the very noble intention of one more read through before I publish it. Honest.) Some of the ideas for that came from a joke conversation with my youngest daughter.

Sadly her joke was better than mine, so I obviously stole it for my own gain. 

Also something your favourite creative people did. I know, I am destroying things for you here, sorry.

I had therapy a while ago to help me with anxiety, confidence and depression issues, one of the things to come from that was the realisation for me that I am an ideas person. I have reams and reams of ideas in my head, in notebooks and scrawled onto scraps of paper all over the place. I no longer scrawl my ideas childishly on the wall in red crayon at least.

My problem is finishing things. I do not necessarily mean actually finishing things, I often do that, but then I do nothing with the finished project. People who know me I presume accept this about me, whilst also being infuriated by it. I get excited about an idea or project. Work on it manically for a while. When they next ask me how it is going, I have ditched it for my new idea of a kids TV show where the Banana Splits come back as detectives and solve crimes.

I genuinely have on another hard drive a 6 part audio sitcom script that I was going to record and release as a podcast. It is complete bar a few edits. What happened? I suddenly lost sight of myself as part of the project, which means that I didn’t feel that I could produce it. So I didn’t. You cannot fail if you don’t try can you?

I have frequent issues with my own talent and ability, doubting everything that I have produced. For many years I would write something, and then it would usually get destroyed only a few weeks later as I hated it.

Why am I telling you this? Well, I am writing this without knowing if I will ever actually publish it for a start. I don’t have a blog or anything similar at the time of writing this, but I am trying to discipline myself into writing regularly again, even if there is no real reason.

Any craft or art is like sport, you have to exercise to be at the top of your game. No one can come from not having written for ages and then produce a work of great wonder or thingyness as it is known in writing circles.

The other reason (s) that I am telling you all of this is because some things have changed over the last few years, I am more aware of my own mental foibles, I have re-involved myself in stand up and improvisational comedy recently. This has been mostly fantastic for me, it felt great to hear people laughing at things that I have written/thought of/said.

Yes, I am that shallow and need that sort of affirmation. What are you, my therapist?

The last reason was to say thank you to those who put up with/tolerate me in everyday life. I am aware that I must be awful to live with sometimes. I try to be nice, cheerful and friendly.

Mostly I think that I manage that.

Sadly not always, but then, who does?