Staring At The Blank Page Before You Novels & Stories

It is my name that they will put in the issue, and of course, I don’t want to mess this up. I sighed and stared at my iPad blankly. The readings are beside the iPad. I was already half the file that I was required to get through, and my head is still not functioning. Gosh. I’ve been staring at the blank document for the draft, but my hands couldn’t just type a thing.

"That's enough." "If tomorrow still feels too difficult." She smiled encouragingly. "Write one word." I looked at a blank book. Each page stayed very white. Not a single mark had touched the paper. Quiet filled the space around us while I kept staring at it. My hands gripped the notebook gently like the empty pages could bring back all that I had lost. At a time, a blank page got scary. It was odd since it used to make me happy. I moved the first page. The known smell of new paper floated in the air.

Everyone instinctively looked up, and on the screens, my test paper was entirely empty. In the essay section, a huge turtle filled the page in black ink, with wild, defiant words written next to it that read, "What are you staring at? Never seen a blank paper before?"

I plug in my headphones without pressing play. The silence sharpens immediately, the rest of the room dimming just enough for me to think. I pull my notebook closer. It opens to chaos. Arrows pointing nowhere. Boxes stacked on boxes. Words crossed out so aggressively the paper underneath is torn. Goals rewritten three, four times, each version only different enough to justify existing. I flip forward until I find a clean page. Write the date at the top. Under it, without thinking, I write: What is the point? I stare at it.

“They want to paint you as impulsive? Fine. Beat them at their own game and show that you’re thoughtful. Strategic. Transparent.” I let out a disbelieving laugh. “Do you have any idea how exhausting it is just to exist right now, let alone write a book?” He shrugged, his mouth twitching in the faintest smile. “Lucky for you, I’m a good editor.” That earned him a long stare. “You’d actually help me?” “Wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise.” The first blank page stared up at me later that night, the cursor blinking like it knew I had no idea where to start.

Chadwick POV Morning light was flooding the grand study, making everything too bright, but I just sat there behind my massive desk with my fingers resting on my laptop keyboard. I was staring straight at a completely blank document. I was typing absolutely nothing. My mind was completely jammed, looping Danny's voice over and over in my head like a broken record. These days you act like a child.

The relief disappears, and I swallow the lump in my throat. Don’t cry, Sera. Not again. I place my laptop on the desk and stare at the blank page, fingers hovering. Nothing comes to my mind. No word, no topic… nothing. I’m just blank. Working as a junior copywriter for Q’s magazine has been tasking. I’m grateful for the job, and like all writers, waiting for my big break. But as I stare at the blank document, tears burn at the back of my eyes, and that big break seems wayyy out of reach.

“We’re… alone.” “Are we?” I asked, the memory of the eraser still a cold knot in my stomach. “That thing fed on organized reality, on data and story. This…” He gestured around us. “This is pre-story. This is the blank page. It has nothing to consume here.”

And as Ama looked at the blank page before her— she reached toward the pen. Ready at last to write an answer that no one—not even her past self—could choose for her.

Sitting down, I open my laptop, switching it on. I click on the saved file, waiting for it to load but when it opens, a blank page greets me. My breath catches. I blink repeatedly, my heart hammering against my chest. “No. No,” I shake my head frantically. “This is not happening!”