The Blank Page is another little something that I hear about enough to the point where I would call it both a syndrome and a symptom. A syndrome in that one writer actually probably had it and others fixated on it. There is certainly no shame in it. Merely perhaps a re-purposing of perspective to that of an artist facing a blank canvas.
Personally I have the opposite problem, to me the most intimidating thing in writing is editing; staring at a page full of beautiful, heart-wrenched words and knowing that I must now go in and alter them. There is perhaps no greater fear that I have, that in needing to strive for completion and comprehension for the reader I will destroy something, alter it to the point that its elegance is lost, that its cohesion will ooze away with every edit.
So I can relate to the fear of the blank page. But fear is just the first step in beginning something new. Once you begin the fear fades. As long as you can translate your idea onto the page before you, as long as you posses the necessary instruments then the blank page, or the full page, represents just another step in the process of translating your idea.
The next post will hopefully give some tips to help translate.