The accident has flattened my creativity.
Left it vapid, dreary, colorless and as glum as a forgotten sugarplum.
Oh, I know this is only temporary.
And I realize it has more to do with my exhaustion-soaked brain than the breaking of any talent I might have had. But, still…
When the highlight of a writer’s day is the line “glum as a forgotten sugarplum,” what author wouldn’t sigh and worry just a bit?