Well there you have it...a new word...schmoomy... the feeling of gloom on stormy day.
A word that describes what one one feels when trying to write a book or even a teeny weeny paragraph and all you are able to do is look out the window and wish you were just a falling leaf with none of the wishes in life.
Or maybe even better a leaf caught in a howling gale being blown somewhere far far away and hoping to land in the class of a Faulkner or a Hemingway and find out if they ever felt schmoomy.
Or maybe to be caught in a whispering breeze to be wafted gently and lovingly into the arms of someone who cared.
But as you watch the leaf is raked into a pile and set afire. Your thoughts are brightened. Maybe your words are a leaf and you strike a match only to burn your fingers.
You turn to your desk and take a pen or strike the keys in hope that what words you write will live to burn a mind or two and not end up in a pile of smoldering leaves.