When Ted finished writing his first novel, he bravely sent
it off to a literary agent. He also sent a check for one
hundred dollars to pay the agent for taking the time and
trouble to read it. What came back was a single page of
unusable, irresponsible, and vague reaction: “This novel is
half good and half bad. That’s the worst kind. I can’t tell
you how to fix it. I suggest pitching it out.”
When I met Ted, he had been blocked for seven years.
Like many beginners, he hadn’t even known to get another
opinion. It was with great difficulty that he handed his novel
over to me. As Ted’s friend, I was heartbroken for him that
this novel had been manhandled. As a professional, I was
impressed—so impressed I found myself with my first
student to unblock.
“Please try to write again. You can do it. I know you can
do it,” I started in. Ted was willing to risk unblocking. It is
now twelve years since Ted began his work with the
morning pages. He has written three novels and two movies.
He has an impressive literary agent and a growing
reputation.
Man can learn nothing except by going from the known
to the unknown.
CLAUDE BERNARDIn order to get to where he is now, Ted had to refeel and