Writers block

The line between a novelist and a liar is a fine one. If writing is a kind of lying, then lying is a form of art, albeit of a lower order—. Both liars and writers refuse to accept the tyranny of reality. Both carefully craft stories that are worthy of belief—a skill requiring intellectual sophistication, emotional sensitivity and physical self-control (liars are writers and performers of their own work). Such parallels are hardly coincidental. Indeed, lying and artistic storytelling spring from a common neurological root—one that is exposed in the cases of psychiatric patients who suffer from a particular kind of impairment, called, chronic confabulation, a rare type of memory problem that affects a small proportion of brain-damaged.
The liar lies on behalf of himself; the writer tell lies on behalf of everyone. If writers have a compulsion to narrate, they compel themselves to find insights about the human condition to express a curious truth that can only be expressed in a furtive and veiled fashion, masquerading as what it is not. A novel is a lie whose secret ingredient is truth.
Writers don’t use expletives out of laziness or to shock, they use them because sometimes the four-letter word is the best one.