If that existed, then the blocking could be a catch-all mitten for all sorts of maladies. I would be suffering from, amongst other things:
Dusting and vacuuming block
Sociable interaction block
The unemployed might suffer from:
Sense and reality block and
Too much pride to take a lowlier job block
Do actors suffer from Actor’s block? No, I think they just have rest periods. I have rest periods, either when I’m attacked by laziness or different obsessions.
Wouldn’t it be great if politicians had Politics’ block?
Striker’s block, Murderer’s block and Mad-Ruler block would be F.A.B. and bring peace to our time.
So why do some writers jump on this wagon? My diagnosis is stress, arising from a desire to gallop onto the front pages of success. Just because you have a skill doesn’t automatically mean that you will be able to do it for all of your waking hours – and be paid for it too. Do chess players or model-airplane hobbyists reach that blocking stage? Or do such as they just enjoy the action of their chosen field? I float in my chosen fields, swim backwards and forwards between them, living in the moments. Death could take me tonight.
I think inventors, like some writers, push themselves into that future vision where they imagine all kinds of fame and fortune from recognition. But, actors, in my opinion, live the craziest kind of life; they choose to spend most (perhaps even all) of their lives as waiters, barmaids and a multitude of temporary people just to spend a few moments on the edges of staged-drama.
Satisfaction is the key, the pill, the negotiation. I know that I like to write. I also know that I hate doing what I don’t like and have arranged my life so that I rule this roost and have learned to say NO. Behind this curtain lies The Wizard of Oz – and behind this curtain I will stay. It doesn’t/won’t matter to me if my work can’t carry itself through the publishing world – it will or it won’t. My pleasure lies in the creation and definitely not in the selling – that’s someone else’s field, and I’m not driving a strange truck through all that mud. And, I think that’s why I don’t suffer from the particular of Writer’s block.
Yes, happiness is: knowing your space and what you want in it.