Writing or: how I stopped wasting time and learnt to love the cattle prod.

I stare at the computer screen like a moron trying to decipher the tear here message on a packet of digestives. The courser blinks mockingly as my brain slowly comes to a stop. This happens to me all the time, because for a while now I have wanted to be a writer. Not for the fame or even the money, even through I could do with the money. I just want to create something, something I can sit on a shelve and let it gather dust, something I can look at in years to come and think, at least I didn't spend all that time on Facebook. But I have a problem, I lack self motivation. I can have a cracking idea, have it all planed out in my head, characters, locations, plot twists, even the name of the dog. I set about writing but something goes wrong. The saying goes 'we all have one good book in us'. I believe I do, but at the moment the only way to get it out would be to crack open my head and feed on the sweet nectar inside. There are novelists like James Patterson who quite possibly cough up books on demand. I think he has a team of writers locked away in a basement, rewarding them with sun light for every 100 pages, just check out his back catalogue. I have tried this but it does come with a few draw backs. Apparently the writing zombies do need food and water and sometimes they do fight back in horrible, horrible ways. I digress, I think the problem comes when I over think what I am writing, not in the plot or the story it's self but I can and have sat in front of the computer deciding what style to write in and get nothing done. So what do I need to do? Well I could get someone to transcribe from tapes, but who has the time and patients to do that or and I think you will all agree this might be the best and most productive way, is to buy a bloody big cattle prod and have someone sit behind me jabbing away everytime I take my hands off the keyboard or avert my eyes from the screen. I could even go as far as install eye clamps like A clockwork orange. Maybe just maybe I would finely get the story I've had in my head for years about the isolated small town that gets cut off by a snow storm and discover something very strange in a field. Or the story of a man who's in a horrendous accident and ends up trapped in his own bloodline, I would love to get these out into the real world and onto paper, I could go on but I won't, I've called Jenkins to fetch the car, I'm going shopping for a prod.