“Many people hear voices when no-one is there. Some of them are called mad and are shut up in rooms where they stare at the walls all day. Others are called writers and they do pretty much the same thing.” - Anonymous
Sometimes writing feels like madness, others like euphoria, for a writer to lasso words into lines of prose fluidly streaming our imaginations, capturing a moment or lifetime in a few lines. All parts of the equation luring the writer in me. Words fascinate me; they are puzzles for a muse to fit together into whatever he or she might render possible with an ounce of beguiling creativity.
In as much as I savor writing, at times my muse eludes even me. Not exactly - I’m one of the more fortunate ones to get haunted by mine. Folly, gave me a playful, insightful, muse who tends to get distracted rather easy, leaping and bounding all over the place, instead of doing what a muse/I should be doing.
Which to tell you the truth is getting me in a bit of hot water. I’ve spent far too long on the current draft of my book than need be. All the pieces are set and ready to place in their respective chapters; I simply need to sit, butt in chair and finish the remaining pages. To be honest, I love the direction this book is taking. So much so, that I’m unplugging for two weeks to finish (this draft).
Yes, I’m giving myself a self-imposed deadline. Someone needs to kick my virtual ass into gear, who else if not me. Until then follow your muse, whatever it may be…