Tobey's Writers Block

Tobey, you're pacing again.

The boy genius snapped out of his daze, and glanced up towards the ceiling. Oh great! The annoying, omnipotent voice was back. He had derailed Tobey from his train of thought, and just when he was so close to finding it! This made the kid irritated. The voice certainly had a knack for showing up at the most inconvenient times just to narrate his every move.

"I am well aware of the fact that I am pacing." Tobey growled to the ceiling. "Need I remind you its part of my creative process?"

Yeah, but you've been doing it for a full hour and a half.

"And it will take even longer now that you've interrupted me! I was on the verge of finding it!"

Finding yet another "perfect" plan to defeat Wordgirl, I'm sure.

"Actually," Tobey stopped and folded his arms. "I'm trying to find a good rhyme for 'antidisestablishmentarianism .' The closest I've come to is 'prism' but it doesn't really seem to work."

Uh… what? Why would you need a rhyme?

"For my poems. Sheesh! I thought you knew everything!"

I only know what they wrote on my script.

"I see." The boy strode over to his desk and gathered up the various papers that were scattered about it. "Well, let me enlighten you. I plan to showcase my writing talents by having my poems read aloud at the 'Thirty-Third Annual All-City Talent Show.'"

You write poetry?

Tobey folded his arms again, slightly irked. "Yes. Don't act so surprised! I'm not just a brilliant craftsman when it comes to robots, you know. I am also a craftsman of words!"

Words, huh. Well, that's neat, I suppose.

"If you think that's neat, it gets even better! Wordgirl herself is going to be the one reciting my poems!"

And how are you going to manage that?

"I have my ways."

You're gonna blackmail her, aren't you?

Tobey paused and shifted around nervously. "… Maybe."

It's pretty obvious. Blackmailing her is the only way she would agree to do anything you'd want her to-

"-Oh hush!" The boy interrupted.

But why do you want Wordgirl to read your poems for you? Can't you just read them yourself?

"I could, but you know, everyone loves Wordgirl! She's very influential. If she says she loves Tobey and his poems, everyone will as well! I'm sure to win!"

Uh huh, and I'm sure the fact that you would be getting her to say 'I love Tobey' just so you can hear her say those words doesn't come into play at all, right?

"The thought never occurred to me." Tobey lied. "Now, if you don't mind, I need to concentrate. I don't have much time! There is a deadline I need to meet!"

When is the talent show, anyway?

"It's on the fourteenth!"

The fourteenth? But that's-

"-Tomorrow! I know! That's why I need to hustle! I spent so much time building Statuebot that I completely forgot to finish my poems!" As soon as he said that, Tobey grabbed a pen and was preparing to write.

Actually, Tobey, the fourteenth is-

"-Shh!"

Yeah, but Tobey-

"-SHH!"

The Narrator let out a sigh. Oh, nevermind.

Tobey glared up towards the ceiling again. "Look, you are very distracting! Isn't there another villain you could pester?"

Nah, they aren't really doing anything worth observing. You're much more interesting.

After a moment, the struggling writer shook his head. "Oh, alright. I suppose you could make yourself useful and critique my work. Here, what do you think of this?

'How do I love Tobey? Let me count the ways.
One: for his shimmering, golden hair…'"

Um… is that it?

Tobey's face fell. "… Yeah. I couldn't think of anymore! There are so many things about me I could list, if only I could just put them to paper! This writer's block I've been under is truly vexing! However, it's only the first poem, and they aren't always the best to begin with. I'm sure the other poems will be better. I plan on writing fifty of them!

Fantastic, The Narrator mumbled.

"Hmmm… how about this one?

'I will love him with a goat.
I will love him on a boat.
I will love him on a train.
I will love him in the rain.
I will love him here and there.
I will love him anywhere.
I love him oh so much, you see,
And you should also love Tobey.'"

That's a little better.

"No, it's too juvenile. " Tobey muttered, crumpling up the paper and tossing it behind him. (Naturally, it only rolled down his back and landed two inches away from him.) He began tapping the end of the pen against his mouth, when a spark ignited in his brain. "Wait! I got it:"

'Hey, I just met you
And this is crazy
But I love Tobey
So call him… perhaps.'

Grrrrr!" Tobey ripped the paper up into shreds and brushed them aside. "I've lost my ability to rhyme at this moment! Stupid writer's block!" In his pout, he stumbled towards his bed, and face planted into his pillow. "What will I do? I only have several hours left until the performance! If I can't rhyme, my poems will never be finished!"

I don't think you should fret too much, Tobey. The fourteenth is actually-

"-Hold on!" The boy quickly snapped out of his sulk and leapt out of his bed. "No one said my poems had to rhyme! There are plenty of poetry formats that don't require rhyming! That's it! Haikus! They're so easy! I could create fifty of them in no time!"

The Narrator sighed once again.

The boy-genius-turned-writer skipped over to his desk and began scribbling down the words as they came to him.

'I love you, Tobey.
With you, my heart flies freely…'

Tobey had to pause to find the perfect ending. "Let's see. It's a five, seven, five format. Needs to end with five syllables…" After using his fingers to count, he finally wrote:

'Kinda like a duck.'

"Hmmm…" He wasn't too impressed with that one. Maybe the next one would be better.

'Oh Tobey, be mine!
I want you here by my side!
And please pass the salt.'

"Okay, no more haikus for me." He crossed out the words and rested his head against his hands.

How about limericks? I always love a good limerick!

Tobey slowly raised his head. "I could try…"

'There is a boy here wanting fame
He is called Tobey, by name
You should be just like me,
And love him, you see,
Despite that this limerick is lame.'

"Grr! This accursed writers block!" He wrinkled the paper again and added it to his growing pile. After letting himself cool down for moment, he rested his head on his hand. "I wonder if Shakespeare ever had days like this."

I'm sure he did.

"Shakespeare! That's it! I could write a sonnet!"

Excitedly, he grabbed a fresh sheet of paper and let the words flow.

'Shall I compare Tobey to a summer's day?
He is more charming and…'

"Tobey!" A loud cry emanated from across the house. "Tobey! Dinner is ready!"

"Not now, mom!" Tobey cried in response, frustrated by the distraction. "I'm the middle of expressing myself!"

"Theodore McCallistar the third, you will wash up and come to the table this instant! Your lasagna is getting cold!"

The loud rumble from his stomach insisted that he obey his mother. Tobey looked at the paper. He really needed to finish this! He was on such a roll with this sonnet! Roll… roll… Rolls sounded really good to him. Perhaps Mother made rolls with the lasagna, like she always does. Hunger getting the better of him, he sighed in defeat. "Oh, alright." He muttered to himself. "Coming mother!"

A scene transition passed.

Tobey returned to his room with a plate of cookies in his hand. The room was completely dark now, except for the faint luminescent glow provided by the moon. He set his cookies down and proceeded to turn on his desk lamp. "My goodness. It got dark very quickly!"

Actually, you were gone for four hours.

"Four hours?" Tobey flung backwards over his swivel chair. When he pulled himself back up, he started collecting the papers and scrambled to write. "I have less time now! Must hurry! Must finish!"

Tobey, if you would just let me speak, I know something that will help you…

"Look! Is it the next word for my sonnet?"

Well, no, but…

"Then I don't want to hear it!"

Tobey-

But the boy genius wasn't listening. He stared at the part where he left off.

'He is more charming and…'

And…

AND…

"No! I've lost it! The words aren't coming!" Tobey leapt to his feet and shook his fist. "Curse you, writers block! Curse you to the deepest depths of… of…. GAAAH! I can't even think of a good ending to THAT!"

He dramatically flopped back onto his bed. Letting out moans into his pillow.

Sheesh, what a drama queen. The Narrator was smacking as he spoke.

The boy lifted his head slightly from his pillow. He glanced over at the plate he had set and noticed it was now empty. "Wait, are you eating my cookies?"

After a gulp, he responded. Yeah… well, you were gone for a long time, I got hungry, and you're just throwing a fit, so I figured you wouldn't notice. By the way, your mom makes the best pumpkin cookies I've ever tasted!

Tobey rose again. Annoyance of the stolen cookies lead to the boy pondering how the voice even was able to grab them without being seen. Not wanting to rack his brain further, he chose to just except it. "No matter. Writers block or no writers block, I must finish my poems!"

He strode determinedly back to the swivel chair and picked up the pen. "I will not rest until they are all completed!"

This cued a montage. Eery music provided the ambiance as the scene unfolded. Faded clocks with their hands spinning rapidly began sliding past the screen as Tobey paced back and forth. Another clock passed by and he was found banging his head against the desk. After another clock, he was scrunching up another lousy poem and added it to the larger pile of rejects. And as the montage drew to a close, Tobey was staring straight ahead, not even looking at the paper as he rapidly scrawled on it. His hair was slightly disheveled, and he was wearing a small, crazed smile. Dark circles developed under his eyes, and every so often, his right eye would twitch. His digital clock revealed that it was 5 in the morning.

"Must finish…" He muttered. "Must… finish…"

The Narrator let out a yawn. Tobey? You're still up?

"Must finish…" He answered, still staring at nothing.

Well, perhaps you should take a break. Let's see what you have written so far.

Without a word, the boy obediently stopped writing and raised the paper up to the ceiling. The page was filled entirely with:

'All work and no play makes Tobey a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Tobey a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Tobey a dull boy.'

Yikes.

Tobey just smiled blankly, his right eye twitching again.

I think you just need to get some sleep.

"No!" He said, jabbing his finger towards the ceiling. "I just need to think harder." He resembled his robots as he stiffly grabbed at another page and hovered the pen over it. After letting out a sigh, he slowly began writing.

'I love Tobey's golden hair,
His handsome looks are very rare.'

"Hey!" He said after reading that. "It's coming again!"

'I love Tobey's impish grin.
I love Tobey's face and chin.'

He was beginning to perk up; a genuine smile began replacing his insane grin.

'He wears glasses for his eyes
They fit so well with his bow tie.'

Yes. Yes! YES!

'I love Tobey's vest, so orange
I love him so much that I…'

"I CAN'T RHYME ORANGE!" Tobey screamed, anger seething through him, and he tossed the paper as far as he could throw. He finally snapped! In his fit, he began tossing papers and pens around the room! He knocked the lamp over! He ran to his bed and threw the pillows. Everything he saw, he threw with all of his might. Nothing was safe from his destructive rage!

Finally, as the adrenaline was wearing off, he looked around to survey the damage he had surely created. However, because of his incredible lack of strength and coordination, the room hardly looked any different. Slightly disappointed, Tobey admitted defeat and returned again to flop theatrically on his bed. "I give up!" He sighed. "I'm a lousy writer! I've soiled the good name of writers everywhere! Shakespeare is ashamed of me! Edgar Allen Poe is ashamed! Emily Dickenson is ashamed! Walt Whitman is ashamed! Even DR. SEUSS is ashamed of me!"

He rolled over and began pounding his fists against the pillows. "Why? Why do I do this to myself? WHY do I treat myself to such torture? WHAT IS THE POINT TO ALL OF THIS?"

"I love you." Wordgirl answered him.

Immediately, the voice brought Tobey back to reality and he snapped his head upright. His fist had landed on his Wordgirl doll, and it just sat there at the front of the bed. He blinked. The doll only stared back at him with the smile stitched on its face.

"I love you."

Regaining sobriety, he scooted to the edge of the bed, picking up the doll to examine it. He squeezed its small hand and the doll began to speak.

"You can do it! I believe in you! WOoooOOrd up!"

Tobey only continued to stare at the replica of his crush.

"I love you."

His heart skipped every time he heard the doll say those three words. Yes, Tobey was mindful that it was just a generic phrase that every doll was programmed with. But he would close his eyes and envision the actual girl floating in front of him; looking back at him with the warmth and affection he clearly held for her. Oh, how he longed to hear that beautiful voice whisper that beloved phrase to him and only him! He squeezed the doll's hand.

"Buy me the Wordgirl Gumball Dispenser!"

He pressed it again.

"I love you."

With his emotions dancing wildly, he rose and made his way to the desk, determination shining in his eyes. Pen in hand, he slowly let his heart speak the words it had been aching to share. And he soon began to flow. Poem after poem came and went, each one more heartfelt as the time went. At long last, he had completed his fifty-poem goal.

As the boy was admiring his work, the sunrise was gradually illuminating the room. The birds were chirping happily and everything seemed at peace. Tobey allowed himself to enjoy the little moment. After giving a yawn, he got up and compiled his poems.

Are you finished now?

"Yep!"

Can I hear them?

"Well, I really only have time for one, but I'll share the last one:

'Oh, Tobey! My Tobey! My love I must declare;
When I see his dazzling eyes, I'm lighter than the air;
I'm in a twist, I can't resist, and you have finally won;
This love for you is strong and true, it cannot be undone;

Oh my heart! Heart! Heart!
It only beats for you!
Here in my love my Tobey lies
And you should love him too.

Oh, Tobey! My Tobey! I've fallen for your spell;
You're lovely, clever, brilliant, grand, and did I mention swell?
For you they are applauding – for you they all do cheer
For they can see the grace and charm that you possess, my dear.

Oh Tobey! My Love!
My passion I can't subdue,
I think of him both day and night
And you should love him too.

My Tobey is so gifted, so talented and bright
Every time I catch his smile, my heart takes off in flight!
So after I recite these poems, when all is said and done,
I'll see my Love crowned victor, the prize he sought be won.

Applaud, then friends! And cheer and shout!
For the honored winner who
Has captured my poor, tender heart.
Oh, and love him too.'

Hey! Not bad! That's actually pretty good!

"Thanks. I am quite pleased with it." Tobey was beaming. "I can't wait to hear her recite this one!" He looked at the clock and noticed the time. "Ah! Speaking of which, I'm late! I need to set up Statuebot and then lure Wordgirl over to city-hall and-"

Tobey, if I may?

"What?"

Look at the calendar.

"Why do I need to…?"

Just do it.

Tobey reluctantly did as he was told. "Yeah, see? Right here. The fourteenth. The talent show. Now, I've got to leave or I'll be even more tardy!"

Today isn't the fourteenth. It's the seventh.

"… I beg your pardon?"

The talent show isn't 'til next week.

The boy only stared at the calendar in disbelief. But sure enough, the voice was right. He was a week early.

That's what I was trying to tell you. You had plenty of time to work your poems.

Tobey's crazy smile slowly started returning. He gave a blank stare to the audience; his right eye twitched involuntarily once again. And as the scene pulled away to reveal a shot of the city, a frustrated scream rang loud and deafening. Car alarms went off, dogs began howling, and many of the people in the city paused to process the noise they heard.

Clear across town, in her super-secret-hideout, Wordgirl popped her head out of her Princess Triana book. Her sidekick was busy vacuuming the carpet.

"Hey, Huggy? Did you hear something?"

Her monkey companion only shrugged, and continued on with his chore.

Satisfied with the answer, the plucky super heroine returned to her novel.