Unless you're part of a writing team, putting words to paper is, for the most part, a solitary endeavor and sometimes one that just ain't workin'. The Muse left the building. The train of thought derailed into the Nothing. Characters stand around in the corners of your mind shuffling their feet, flipping you the bird, and calling you a fucking loser. [nodding] Yep, you know exactly what I'm talking about.
You seen my baseball bat?
(And for the record, a search of "sexy baseball guy" garners an incredibly fucked up collection of photos that I'll probably never be able to bleach from my brain. And "bloody baseball bat" offered up just as many, though they were disturbing for reasons that should have kept me from doing the damn search in the first place.)