Being a monkey

I feel like a monkey, or to be exact I feel like the monkey at the start of 2001 (the film not the date).

I'm trying to write this plot stuff for a book I'm working on, and it has me rather baffled. Actually the whole thing has me a bit baffled. No one can tell me exactly what I am supposed to do, or how to do it but they can say when something is wrong.

This is making it very hard to get it right and so I feel like an ape who is looking at bone trying to force out that spark of inspiration that will let it go and lay a monkey smack down on some other chimps and become the primeape. So maybe inspiration is there somewhere, but until it decides to turn up I'll be stuck, glaring at the bone trying to work out what to do with it.

It's not writers block, that's when you know you should be writing about say, cars but can't think of anything to say about them. This is more primative, I'm trying to force inspiration out of my head like Primula Cheese but I think I still have the cap on. No, that's not right either.

I'm a monkey, looking at a bone trying to see if it could be more than just a bone.