Yeah, That Question.
Which I don't get nearly as often these days, as I haven't identified as "playwright" or hung in such circles much (a little more again just lately; it is awkward, somehow), for, oh, the last six or seven years.
What have I been writing?
Well, in terms of actual finished projects, prose or dramatic, as in, with an eye toward i don't know publication and/or production? Pretty much nil. Started a couple here n there. somewhere. i hate when i start something and then not only do i forget where i put it, virtually, but i forget what i was calling it, and thus can't find the file.
However, just in terms of sheer quantity, output:
Well, there's this here blog, for going on a year now. There's all my contributions on other blogs, not inconsiderable. and more verbiage in emails, some rather involved and (to my mind) rather eloquent, not just chit-chat. Before this, I was on a virtual community; at one point i -started- to try to extract and download all my posts; i quit after the first, i don't know, 100 pages' worth? it was a lot. hadn't gotten very far in the process, either. Besides that, a 700+ page personal journal, which hived off into a separate dream journal and a few other things. And a couple other things here and there, no doubt. mostly online. bulletin boards. i like the instant gratification of a response, see.
And, you know, i won't flatter myself that every single "yeah, I like pudding too" on a comments thread is the most profound fucking thing in the world, but a lot of it is, yeah okay I won't self-deprecate in this area for once, probably edited and sculpted enough that i -would- submit it for publication somewhere, if i, you know, got my shit together.
So essentially what this boils down to is: I've been doing nothing BUT writing. For the past six or seven years. And oh yeah, what is the phrase, "working on myself." Which has paid off rather enormously, in fact, and in myriad ways; although, once again, not in any way that tends to register as "progress" for people who don't really think in such terms.
And yet, people ask, "So what do you do?"
And I answer: (variously, over the last while): "I teach, online;" or, "I am a slave in the temp mines" or "I used to be in theatre; now I'm in transition; I am looking toward psychology" (depending on how much i feel the need to not feel completely pathetic). Stuff of that sort.
What I do NOT answer:
"I am a writer." "I write."
Because I'm not getting paid for it, duh.
See, nothing you do counts unless you're getting paid.
And clearly, I cannot ever get paid for this, this writing, because, well, hasn't happened yet; and, consider all the OTHER amazing writers who aren't getting paid, well, um, oh look, shiny thing.
Oh, and I've had leads, and...yeah. Shiny thing. Shiny someone else's drama. Lint picking. Buffy reruns.
Whatever it is, I don't think "writer's block" is the right term.