Writer's Block

I’ve hit a wall. I just can’t think of anything I want to write about. I’m into my next novel, Happy Valley, about thirty pages deep, but I can’t seem to bring myself to get back at it. I'm also out of pet peeves or observations to write about for my Blogspot. Writer’s block or cramp or something preventing me from putting words on paper. I wander around the house, looking for something to do other than reading another novel. No sports on the tube, nothing in the afternoon I care to watch. I might begin the task of putting my books in order, especially the ones out in the garage, but that doesn’t sound very appealing. I could begin my project of going to all the elementary schools in the area and showing them Life in the Arbor, pitching it at them in hopes they may want to use it in their fifth grades. But that would just open the door to more disappointment about selling any of my books. Man, I’ve had a lifetime of disappointment about that endeavor. I guess I’ll take a shower and get a haircut.