As a writer, putting my thoughts down in an entertaining, somewhat coherent, followable form can sometimes be as frustrating for me as a bull moose whose antlers are stuck in a patch of thick vines and tar. I oftentimes feel like a fourteen-year-old teenage girl considering sex for the first time - days go by, occasionally weeks, without a single created sentence because I'm waiting for that "special" moment.

The truth is, sometimes you have to create that moment. You have to find it instead of waiting for it to find you, sort of like bear hunting (Note: I do not condone the sport of bear hunting when it is done using a weapon such as a gun). And though there are motivating muse-filled moments, most of the time when I get myself to finally put words into physical form, I find that the very act of creating is inspiration enough.

Writers who have stumped this hump will surely testify and agree with me. We wait like thirsty literary cowboys in a dry riverbed for the flood of creative inspiration, yet there is no storm up-creek, only a sizzling sun of Writer’s Block overhead. Too many of us die in that dried creek bed when the truth is, we had the strength to dig our own water-wells, or climb out onto the parched rocks and hike it to the nearest watering hole.

Well, not me, not anymore, I'm going to pull my Mexican straw hat down just a shade lower, streak my brow with sweat, and just start hiking, just start typing. That visionary deluge of artistic illumination may never come, or by the time it does, it could be too late.

This is all why I'm posting the progress of my new short story here on the website, on www.studio8.net. And all of you can follow along.

My goal is to have it updated each week, whether I feel like I'm ready for an update or not. Of course, things will seem a bit under-varnished, a bit in need of an expensive touchless carwash buffing job, but that's because you're getting the first draft, the way it looks after one run, straight from my mind to the paper.

You, the audience, the poor wandering soul who has found himself in the confines of this website, will be with me in each creative step of the way. I may rewrite an entire week's composition the following week. I may just throw out certain sections. I may just throw up. You get to watch the story unfold along with me.

I also have a tendency to not end things. I get to a point in which I am so impressed by what I've written, I'm too afraid to continue. I'm frightened that my ending may not meet the grand immaculate vision in the depths of my skull. In other words, I'm scared I won't meet my own expectations.

Leo da Vinci had the same problem. 90% of his work was left unfinished at the time of his death. I am convinced that it is one of the many diseases of greatness. Don't try to tell me it isn't because that would just crush my achy-breaky heart.

I'm hoping that by setting weekly deadlines for myself, I will be forced to bring the damnable thing to a conclusion. And by all means, tell me what you think along the way. Get involved. Hit me up at truston@studio8.net and tell me what you like, what you hate, what you wish you could stuff into my rectum, what you want to see added to the Bible, and so on and so forth.

A suggestion is like a penis, you can never have too many of them.

So the link below is the first installment. You'll notice that it's so rough it doesn't even have a title yet. Perhaps one of you out there has an idea. I figure it will become more obvious as the story progresses.

And now, like my third grade teacher used to tell us before she would turn off the classroom lights and begin beating us with her yardstick, "Let the madness begin."

CLICK HERE for the first installment of Truston's "Untitled Story"!

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