Writing, as easy as a stroll on the beach, or as difficult as pulling the words from mid-air.
Some days I sit and stare at the screen. Where are my characters I ask? Unfortunately they are all stationed in an outdoor gazebo, on a night with such a fog cover that it makes them blind and distorts all of their senses.
Oh, well. Perhaps I’ll nudge them by playing some music or setting a timer. Sometimes the pressure of the clock ticking will motivate my characters from escaping and then I cannot type fast enough.
It can be feast or famine for me.