I'm afraid I'm never going to write a single good sentence again. That all my best ones were used up in a time that I didn't have anything much to say, so even if they were good, they weren't great because what could I have to talk about?
I still don't have anything to say. Maybe that's the problem. I have a good job, a good wife, a good house and dog. Where's the inner conflict? The struggle?
Josh Radnor wrote in his movie happythankyoumoreplease, and I think this was the author's feelings showing through, that maybe his great shame as a writer is that he's just this suburban kid with good parents. "Y'know? I was fed, clothed, carpooled."
That might be mine too.