It has been said that Victor Hugo, author of The Hunchback of Notre-Dame and Les Miserables, wrote in the nude to overcome writer’s block. According to legend, he asked his servants to remove all clothing from the room so that he couldn’t leave before concluding his daily writing quota.
Don’t ask me if this is true, I wasn’t there. I honestly don’t know what prevented Mr. Hugo from walking naked down the hall of his own home.
I don’t wish to speculate as to what other motives he might have had for removing his clothes. To be honest, I don’t want to know what an author wore or didn’t wear while he/she was writing what I’m now reading. Those thoughts distract me from within whatever fictive bubble the story has planted me.
Having published six books (soon to be seven), I can claim to have never fallen victim to writer’s block, that painful period when words cannot be coaxed from the brain onto a page. I’ve had spells of unproductive writing when several hours effort generates a paltry hundred words. But I don’t consider that writer’s block – more like writer’s cramp.
My writing partner, the Holy Spirit, is exceptionally good at keeping my imagination fed. For that I am eternally grateful.