There’s this magical art of writing things that I’m able to do most of the time.
I create stories out of thin air. Launch demons and ghouls into the world.
Today has not been one of those days.
Not in a “I have no idea what I’m doing” kind of way but more in a “I lost my story and don’t know how to get back to it” kind of way.
Taking a few days off to recover from bartending Sundance events destroyed my train of thought and where the story was going.
I had a lot of fun writing what is written, and I’ve got back and read it. But I have no idea where it was headed. I have notes, outlines and all of that but it doesn’t matter when the story takes over your brain.
You’re at the whim of muse, and she doesn’t like to be teased. She wants consistency. She wants reliability. Most of all she wants her pound of flesh on the page. When she doesn’t get it, she hides. She runs away and fucking hides.
Now, I have no idea where she went. If I did I’d ask her why she left. But today, I need her. I need all that she is. It’s a joint effort and without her on my shoulder the words don’t come and I’m unable to get things done.
I get looks when I don’t write. I need her back. I may set out something for her. A bribe.
But I’m stuck and she won’t come around right now.