You freeze at the very first step

This freeze at the threshold is one of the most maddening of creative stalls, and it yields to a few simple understandings and tricks. The first step carries too much weight; lighten it — you freeze because you have made the beginning bear the burden of being right and worthy of all that follows, but it is merely the first step, easily changed or discarded later, so let it be provisional and disposable, made only to get moving. Start in the middle, or start badly on purpose — skip the daunting first step and begin somewhere easier, writing the beginning later, or deliberately make a terrible first step, since a line written to be awful cannot freeze you. And once moving, momentum carries you — the hardest point is the start from rest, and once the work is underway it develops its own motion, one part suggesting the next, so your whole task at the threshold is simply to get moving by any means. Lighten the first step, trick your way past it, and let momentum take over. Where do you tend to freeze?