Difficulties in Musing
As if writing weren't hard enough already, my muse is being difficult today. Even moreso than usual. She's testy, and demanding, and so inconsistant today that I'm ready to scream. She's envisioning so many different scenes that my fingers are having difficulty keeping up.
When I was originally bombarded by her, I tried to push her from my mind, tried to keep my distance, but she flooded my head with thoughts of the perfect story, and lulled me into submission. The beginning and the end were layed out, and only the events leading were left to fill in. And fill them in we did. She took me by the hand gently showed me the way. And I wrote, but the characters made decisions that led them onto paths they were never suppose to tread upon. Secondary characters became main characters seducing me into giving them more page time. And main characters pouted, refusing to tell their story. Ultimately I lost control of the little world I created, and that was just the first book. But she wasn't angry.
She wanted more, and faster. And I struggled to keep up. Now, every time I think that book two is flowing nicely, all the pieces are falling into place, the muse steps in and rips it all apart. Will she never be satisfied and just let me tell the story instead of taunting me with the next one?
And I'd say the heck with this one, lets just start on the next one, but she firmly shakes her head, and says "No, you will finish this or I'll not come back!"
I tell myself that I should let her leave, maybe this whole writing thing isn't for me, but I have to know what comes next, and the only way to do that is to calmly sit at her feet and do as she says. Even when I want to run screaming for the hills. So sit I do, and wait for the whispered story. Maybe she'll let me finally finish this story, maybe she won't change everything I already have written, or maybe tomorrow's the day she'll start to behave. I can't go any faster, and she refuses to go any slower. But we do what we must, and I must finish.
When I was originally bombarded by her, I tried to push her from my mind, tried to keep my distance, but she flooded my head with thoughts of the perfect story, and lulled me into submission. The beginning and the end were layed out, and only the events leading were left to fill in. And fill them in we did. She took me by the hand gently showed me the way. And I wrote, but the characters made decisions that led them onto paths they were never suppose to tread upon. Secondary characters became main characters seducing me into giving them more page time. And main characters pouted, refusing to tell their story. Ultimately I lost control of the little world I created, and that was just the first book. But she wasn't angry.
She wanted more, and faster. And I struggled to keep up. Now, every time I think that book two is flowing nicely, all the pieces are falling into place, the muse steps in and rips it all apart. Will she never be satisfied and just let me tell the story instead of taunting me with the next one?
And I'd say the heck with this one, lets just start on the next one, but she firmly shakes her head, and says "No, you will finish this or I'll not come back!"
I tell myself that I should let her leave, maybe this whole writing thing isn't for me, but I have to know what comes next, and the only way to do that is to calmly sit at her feet and do as she says. Even when I want to run screaming for the hills. So sit I do, and wait for the whispered story. Maybe she'll let me finally finish this story, maybe she won't change everything I already have written, or maybe tomorrow's the day she'll start to behave. I can't go any faster, and she refuses to go any slower. But we do what we must, and I must finish.
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