Practice

Insert title here

It was a dark and stormy night. Well, really it was a bright summer afternoon, but this is supposed to be a mystery novel. I slammed my laptop shut and started pacing back and forth messing around with the rubber bands I always have on my wrist. There's nothing worse than writers block, because there's nothing you can do to break down a wall that your own mind created. Although I was still pacing, messing with my hands, and trying to form a story there seemed to be a part of my mind that remained inactive, so naturally I began talking to my self. Well naturally talking turned into debating, and debating turned to name calling. Then, it hit me. I looked down and saw the rubber band I was previously messing with snapped in half. At this point I was confused as to what just happened so I grabbed another rubber and and started pacing again trying to figure out how to kill someone and make it interesting.