Twice this week I drove past my exit to work. The reason? The chatter in my head infiltrated all functioning systems and left me with what I like to call "Pre-manuscript System Failure".
I've got a new work in progress on the back burner and haven't had the chance to sit down and fully plot it out. Until I purge it onto my spreadsheets and post-it notes, I'll be a prisoner to my muse.
I become quite crazed when a story's cooking. Once while plotting a manuscript, I ran out of my precious yellow sticky pads. I happened to glance at our freshly painted bedroom wall, so nice and creamy white. A primeval plotting beast raged within me, hungered for the stretch of wall. "Do it. Iz smooth. Iz clean. Iz white," the beast growled.
Then my gaze shifted to my husband's photo on the nightstand. His expression and the premonition of what would happen effectively broke the demon muse's spell. Is your muse ever naughty or crazed?
Friday, June 4, 2010
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