Although you wouldn’t know it from this blog, eh? Yes, life has intervened. Again. Still?
I spend each day on my computer, answering emails, trying at times to maintain my calm because the questions or comments therein make all my attitude want to come out. Too bad I can’t just go mad sometimes so people will get the idea that they need to do things for themselves …
Sure, I hold a position at work where I am supposed to support others at various levels of the organization. However, at what point do you expect people to not need you to repeat the same thing(s) over and over? Is that asking too much?
I guess it is too much to ask.
But as usual, I digress.
I’ve taken my writing up again (cue the Mummers, a couple of local grunge bands, and maybe a juggler or two).
Okay, maybe not all the Mummers.
I haven’t written a single word in about a week.
What had happened was, my space epic had been calling me. I hadn’t added to it in a year or more (ya know, that fickle Madame Muse) but it was often in my mind. I used the excuse that I wasn’t able to readily access my Scrivener files since I am on a different computer all day. However, that rationale got very old last week and my tech-crazed brain went to work, figuring out a way to gain access to those files and subsequently work on said space epic. A few clicks later and Bam! there I was, writing. It was just a couple hundred words but it felt good. I’d hoped to have at least a rough draft of a manuscript by the end of the year.
Notice the past tense.
It is a story that has no clear trajectory: in the past when I’ve written a story or a book, I have a sense of what happens next, what’s around the corner. Not this go. It comes in spurts that seem disconnected to one another. I have to stop to research different aspects (it is a space epic, after all: I have notes on AUs — Astronomical Units in case you didn’t know — and obscure terms of measurement, among other things). When it’s done, it will be … well, epic.
But after those couple hundred words, Madame Muse wandered off again. I feel the urge to write but the next bit of the story hasn’t revealed itself, making me suspect having a full draft in a few months might be a bit far-reaching.
However, stranger things have happened, haven’t they?
Writing is release. I can step away from the daily madness and immerse myself in a universe of my making, where the conflicts are managed simply by walking away and where the characters don’t keep asking mundane questions.
It only works though when Madame Muse is whispering and it seems she too is distracted.
I do believe she’ll be back and at least during my lunch breaks I will be knitting new lengths onto this latest masterpiece. It will be the sort of creation that I will either show off proudly or hide in the back of the (electronic) drawer as something too hideous to behold.
Check in on me once in a while, won’t you? Give me a nudge and tell me to put quill to papyrus … After all, I can’t create if I don’t create, right?