Okay, so I've been AWOL these last couple of weeks. Sorry. Sorry. Really sorry, but I have a good excuse. . .honestly.
I got distracted. Became possessed (in the best possible way, of course).
Yup, that's right. I've been totally thrown over by my WIP (work in progress in author-speak). The sucker just took over, and is still running my life.
Hallejuah! I love it when a plan comes together. And my muse shows up with boxing gloves.
Getting beat up by her is a pleasure. Really. Because all kinds of cool things start to happen. Exciting stuff that makes me lace up my gloves too and give equal measure as I go round after round with the story in my head. And yeah, you guess it. I'm taking the beating. . .happily. Being knocked around the creative ring just feels so damn good. Muscles get stretched. Skills are sharpened. Plot kinks suddenly disappear, are ironed out or twist themselves straight.
And that got me thinking.
What's so different right now? Has my life become less busy? No. In fact, it's crazier than ever. So, where is the get-up-and-go coming from. . .my muse? Does she really run the show, decide when to show up and smack the crap out of me? You know, somehow, I don't think so. She's way to fickle for that. Puncutality isn't her forte, and no matter how much she loves to lay the boots to me, well. . .let's just say, it's always on her terms.
So, I asked myself. . .what the heck is going on?
I'm showing up. Every day. With such mind-blowing regularity that my muse knows exactly where to find me. And when. The more consistent I am, the more reliable--and faithful--she becomes, because I'm feeding her (extra large cafe au laits, along with all kinds of chocolate goodies. All right, don't look surprised. You know I can't resist mentioning my obsession). Each session trains her to come when I call. Not when she feels like it.
So, excuse me while I lace up and put my mouth guard in. The bell is ringing. Time for another round.