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A Man Sat Down to Write a Story…
A man sat down to write a story. He knew main character, it’s obvious, a fourty-year old man named Gavin. A tall, slender figure with blonde hair and light skin, who takes great joy in skulking away to hide in his den, otherwise known as his flat, and pretend to write.
With the main protagonist in place, where to go next? Ahhh, the scene. It was early on a Monday morning, Gavin was sat at his desk just before 7am, having risen at his usual time of 5.55am, cleaned his teeth, practiced yoga, eaten breakfast and was at his desk at 6.57am. As usual, he opened the website @medium, to write a few paragraphs about his life, what he felt was his boring life, yet it was a life he felt compelled to write about, every single day.
By 7.30am, or perhaps nearer 8am, he would finish the writing and begin his proper work of the day, either the mind-bending academic work he had, for some reason undertaken, or editing photographs of food for the clients he take photographs for.
Yet, on this Monday morning, something peculiar happened. As he sat there, in front of the blank screen, he found that he had utterly nothing to write about. Zero.
It had become apparent in the recent weeks that one of the great challenges for writers, filmmakers, or creative people of any ilk, is to construct a fully rounded storyline, which threads…
