For the entire month of November, I was able to follow a strict writing routine. Of course, I then went AWOL from the craft due to spending 30 days in the book bubble. Then, the holidays. Then, the stomach issues. Now, I’m back, I’m here, I’m ready, but it isn’t. It being the muse.
I have several ideas, mind you. I have lots I could be working on, but nothing I want to work on. Nothing is kicking me in the head, which is a prerequisite for me to get any real work done, aside from my blog, so here I am. My blog is encouraging me to write about this, to write about anything, to just write, damnit, and something will come…or so they say. I have a journal that I keep, and I have done some free typing there, but nothing is coming from it. No characters pestering me to tell their story.
Lies, it’s all lies. I have characters in my head all the time, they just aren’t giving up the ghost right now. I have two characters waiting for their sweeping love story to be actualized. I have a gang of ten imaginary folk waiting to overthrow a corrupt government. I’ve got a little girl who wants out of the foster care system. I’ve got a teddy bear with two or three more tales to tell. But no one wants to come out and play.
So, I turn to poetry, which is my first love, and I started editing my stuff that I sent out this month because it feels a little flat in some spots. I prepped my submissions for February. I pecked out a sad little poem about the agony of forgiveness. Then, the well was dry.
So back to the blogging board. I figured I could get a jump on my posts, and store some up for sick days, but then the topics I thought of earlier evaporated. I should have written them down right away, but I only manage to do that when I have a really good idea: not when it’s important pieces of information.
Anyway, my writing routine was wonderful. I would make my coffee and grab my phone and take the long commute to my office: three whole rooms away. Then I would settle in, check Twitter and Facebook, and open my Word file. And it was off to the races.
Now I find myself staring at that little blinking cursor with fury. It taunts me.
I’m going to go on Pinterest now and make character boards. It’s literally the only thing I can think of to be creative today. Then I’m going to hang out with the kiddos who don’t have school today, and maybe finally take down my Christmas tree. All the while, hoping that the muse will strike.