I made a point, or at least posited it, on another blog, far above this one in the pantheon of gods, that writing is something you do, by yourself, in your head. People might interrupt you, but unless you are collaborating (co-writing something) nobody forms the words and makes them real in this universe but you.
Think about it. Who can jack you off best, be you male, or be you female? Yes, you. Sure, you enjoy the hands and fingers of another, but in the end, who is it you turn to to rub a quick one off?
Incidentally, this is the main reason I don't understand plagiarism. It's like fucking a dead chick, after several necros have been there before you. Not that I'd know anything about that.
I don't know where it is, but somewhere in the brain of a writer is a gland, that contains every word that has ever been written, ever will be written, and any possible word you could ever make up, in each and every and all languages. Call it God, if you want. He made us in His image.
Losing the ability to write, must be what Hell is like, separated from the Father's Light and Love.
Gotta have the right light to write in? A special pen/pencil? A place in the house that is special to you? A certain kind of paper? No interruptions? Fuck you, non-hack. As I've been writing this, I have given out at least four hugs, eaten two pieces of pizza, and yelled at the little bastards several times to quit running on the stairs.
There's a Spongebob episode (yeah, I know, I know) where he has to write an essay for class, and he spends all night avoiding it by coming up with perfectly good reasons to do something else.
Don't wanna write? Fine. Do something else.