A quiet week
Friday, July 4, 2008
And this is normally a time when I welcome the calm, laissez-faire attitude that arrives with the warm weather. Only this week, my muse was stomping her little feet and demanding that I write something. Right now.
Couldn't she see that I was taking a much-needed break after completing my last manuscript?
"So what?" she said, adding another stomp for emphasis. "You're a writer. I'm just asking you to do what you're supposed to be doing anyway."
"But I'm tired." I whined from my shaded spot on the hammock. "I need to refill the well before I can proceed."
"You've been eating for hours," she snorted. "Aren't you feeling full enough yet?"
I dropped the bag of low-fat, high fibre vegetable chips (yeah, right) and wiped my hands off on my paint-stained yoga pants.
"I'm referring to my creative well. Time needs to pass so that it can fill up with ideas."
My muse arched a brow. "What if I push something into it? Would that fill it?"
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and I jumped off the hammock in one ab-busting move. Clutching my side, I raced to the end of the driveway where there's a deep hole, normally covered by a cap. It leads to the water pipes...and something much, much more dangerous: my idea well.
I peered down into the hole, expecting the worst.
Two characters from my next novel looked up at me. Penny, a 14-year-old girl, was clutching a pogo stick and box of donuts. Brenda, a slender brunette, was holding my cat, Zaphod. He meowed and reached a paw up in my direction. I tried to extend my arms to them but they were too far down. My knees ground into the pavement.
Turning to face my muse, I gave her a look that would melt a CD case. "How could you?"
"Guess you'll have to write them out of it," she said before disappearing behind the shed. "Good luck!"
posted by Bonnie Staring at 3:26 PM