Sometimes when I'm stuck on a scene or just blanking when I work on my prose, I'll shut down the wordprocessor and look around pretty much at random on the internet. Today I was having just such a problem on the novel and the links found me perusing the site of a realtor in a small Georgia town where I used to live. I noticed that almost all of this realtor's listings were foreclosures. One of the houses was selling for a little over $100K. Out of curiosity, I wanted to see what $100K would buy you in a small mountain town in northern Georgia.
The listing for this house had about a dozen photos. The third one was this:
This photograph so depressed me that I had to sign off. Back to work on my novel. The horrors of fiction seem far less severe in light of the cold realities.