Or maybe it didn't. I was hoping the title would get me rolling on a great idea for a new story, or at least a witty blog. So far though, not so much.
I've been remiss in keeping my blog lately. The past two years have not been what I'd call conducive to writing funny little bits to keep the masses amused, so may I be forgiven for the lapse in entries?
Ideally I would like to finish a novel or two or six that I've been working for a few years, but I've not had the spirit to go back to them. It's not that they're especially bad — or for that matter good — stories that has kept me away. It's only that the stories have stalled, and are stubborn in giving up their secret endings so that I can keep going. I always let the story (a.k.a. the muse) lead the way, you see. If I try to steer it, move it, or otherwise coerce to go my way, the muse will just flip me the bird and flitter away. If, however, I give him free rein and let him simple dictate the story to me, it goes along fine. I've often describe the creation of my first novel, "My Brother's Keeper" as a hostage situation with the muse. He was a merciless captor who would not release me until I had delivered 180,312 words. I managed to scrape up that ransom in about three months. He was a little less demanding with "In The Wake of Ashes" only requiring 172,347 words. That one took a year. He allowed me 3 years for "By Right of Will".
(Notice how I worked in all my book titles there? That was for your convenience so you can hurry over to Amazon and buy them. Wasn't that nice of me?)
But the muse has been fickle as of late, sending me starts and fits of one story, only to pull up stakes and move on to something else, leaving me with lots of unfinished work. I feel guilty trying to start something new, when I have five projects languishing in my word processor. I want to finish them, I really do. I ruminate on plot, seeing scenes, making plans for this story or that, and when I get to the point where I'm ready to start writing, the muse smites me for daring to work without him.
It had gotten to the point that I had finally decided that my writing days were over. I said as much out loud a couple of weeks ago. "I'm done," I declared. "Archive the prose, fold up the poetry and unfinished short stories, and call it quits."
Later that day, out of the blue, my mother called to tell me that a friend of a friend of a cousin or something knew someone who was maybe interested in doing an interview with me on my latest book. Well, I know mom is well meaning, so I was polite and said, "thanks, I'll let you know if anything comes of it."
I was pretty surprised when something did come from it. I was contacted by Judy Buswick, host of "The Writers", a locally produced show that features local writers with published work. She wanted me to appear on her show. Needless to say, I was pretty glad to do so, so I put in for a day off from my paying job for the day, and got to be an author again. It was fun.
The muse smiled. "Quit huh? I don't think so."
But he didn't bring me any new story. So I figured, I'd just 'slow down'. But really, slowing down from a full stop is pretty redundant, so I just let the glow of the interview warm me for a while, and then quietly slip back into my 'not writing' mode.
Then, my friend Jesse, read one of my short stories on her radio show. "Road Trip" was suddenly being read and I was getting requests from printed versions.
The muse laughed. "Might be time to dust off that word processor, Lorrieann."
So, I came to realize that the reports of the demise of my writing career may have been premature. It's time to start again.
So, that's where I am. Starting over. I'm still waiting for the inspiration to hit, but this time, I have faith that the muse will come back to me. Maybe he'll even be demanding again. That would be nice.
I'm working on setting up a video link to the interview. I'll post it when it's available – or when the technology muse returns and helps me find a way to do it.
Cheers,
L
