I like that title. I think I’m gonna use it later.
I have been focusing on editing a lot more recently, which is a good thing, I know. Still, I feel remarkably uninspired to do much new work. I feel like editing is a necessary evil in the creative process, but it also hinders me from doing anything new and worthwhile. My muse has escaped me and I don’t know where she went.
At least, I assume that my Muse is a lady. Muses generally are in mythology, like a more benign succubus.
My Muse has left me. Which may or may not be a good thing. I want to create, I want to write and I want to get back to building my fantastic worlds and stories for people. (And I’ll admit, mostly for myself. Keeping it all cooped up inside is not healthy.) But despite that WANT, I can’t. The Muse is gone. The drive and determination to make something from nothing has left me.
I haven’t seen my Muse since November 2011.
I think chasing your Muse is a challenge in and of itself. If your Muse doesn’t want to be caught, they won’t be. I like to think that my Muse has gone somewhere warm, like Australia, and is sipping alcoholic beverages from a hollowed out coconut. (Do coconuts grow in Australia? I should go and actually look that up.) I just hope that when she comes back, she’ll have some new ideas for me.
But it is really the chasing that is the problem. Muses are like our own personal Carmen SanDiego. You can glimpse them, but you’ll never catch them, no matter how smart and proficient in geography you are. (Am I the only one who remembers that game show?)
I hate feeling like this, though. I hate not being inspired to write something at any given point in time. It’s like I am missing a hand or other equally important body part. At this point, I’m just gonna sit back, relax and let my Muse come back from her vacation. I’m excited to see her luggage when she gets back. She always brings back stamps on the side.