How many times do I have to learn this lesson?
If I can wait out the sheer discomfort of facing a blank page (or, in my case, screen: I no longer write by hand) and keep my butt in the chair, eventually words will start to come.
It may take minutes. It may take hours. It may take numerous cups of coffee and delaying tactics to distract myself from the task at hand. But if I persevere, then gradually I no longer have a blank screen.
Those first words? Those first paragraphs? They’re almost always wildly imperfect. But usually there’s something salvageable there in the prose to which I can return later.
So far today I’ve given my female protagonist an orange male tabby named Monster and decided she needs to wear leopard-print glasses from time to time.
If there’s some slight resemblance there to me and my own household, the names shall remain changed for plausible deniability.