In a certain time and place there lived a king's daughter who was more beautiful than any other in the world. So lovely was she that when a messenger rode back to the king of a far off kingdom with her portrait, saying "Sire, you sent me to find a lady fit to be your queen, and I have found this portrait," the king had only to look at it to fall instantly in love with her.

1.

My first thought is that I don't remember dying. They tell me nobody does. It's like trying to catch the exact moment you fall asleep; when you wake, it's gone. You may remember feeling tired, you may even remember starting to fall asleep; you just don't remember the transition, the actual moment when you passed from one state to the other.

And then they resurrect you.

“Before we begin, do you have any questions for us, Mr. Reynolds?” the man in the middle asked, his hands sorting through a folder.

“Yeah, what’s the job?” Frank asked, eyeing all three of the interviewers, all of them barely visible courtesy of a glaringly bright light bulb hanging directly above their table. The bulb provided the only light in the room, and Frank was already nervous, more so than he normally was when going into an interview.

Sick people don't like being told there is nothing wrong with them, and writers don't like being told that their writer's block is the product of laziness and a lack of commitment to the craft. Yet, oftentimes, that is the attitude a blocked writer encounters. As a frequent sufferer of hard-core writer's block, I've decided to take a stab at writing the kind of article I'd always wished I could find.