Muse Fuel
The first time my Muse went MIA I was clueless and carried on writing. When she came back I waved in her general direction and gestured for her to find a seat amongst the accumulating clutter.
She left again and I tried to carry on writing but this time I ground to a stop. Finally I realised there was a direct correlation. I tracked her down and found her looking wan - not her usual genius self at all. Aghast, I cried, "What have I done wrong? Tell me and I'll fix it." And she replied, "I just feel so empty and useless. You sit there every spare minute and write. It's all you ever do. You never listen to me anymore. You never take me anywhere. I'm thinking of finding someone who appreciates me."
I learned my lesson! I realised I needed to take a break sometimes, take her places and reconnect with the world so she could be re-inspired and in return she would help my writing become better, richer, fuller.
She left again and I tried to carry on writing but this time I ground to a stop. Finally I realised there was a direct correlation. I tracked her down and found her looking wan - not her usual genius self at all. Aghast, I cried, "What have I done wrong? Tell me and I'll fix it." And she replied, "I just feel so empty and useless. You sit there every spare minute and write. It's all you ever do. You never listen to me anymore. You never take me anywhere. I'm thinking of finding someone who appreciates me."
I learned my lesson! I realised I needed to take a break sometimes, take her places and reconnect with the world so she could be re-inspired and in return she would help my writing become better, richer, fuller.
In no particular order, here are some favourite things
which help me to re-fuel my Muse
The kaboom of waves breaking against rocks and the swishy hiss as the bubbling water recedes. Spaghetti Carbonara. A hot, sweet cup of tea with a great book. The sound of torrential rain. The smell of bonfires. The first chords of music accompanying curtain up at the theatre. Long walks on frosty mornings. Dancing like Kate Bush, singing like Robert Plant while cooking dinner with Hubby on a Friday night. Agatha Christie TVM's with well-known thesps hamming it up. The West Wing, The Gilmore Girls, Sherlock Holmes and The Big Bang Theory. Nora Roberts, Lee Child. Austen, Dickens and Shakespeare. Stephen King's: 'On Writing'. Costume Drama. The word Pootle. Thinking I'm still young enough to become a rock star, a high-grossing Hollywood actress, a mixed martial-arts expert or a professional dancer appearing on Strictly/Dancing with the Stars. Being able to laugh at myself for thinking I'm still young enough to become a rock star, a high-grossing Hollywood actress, a mixed martial-arts expert or a professional dancer appearing on Strictly/Dancing with the Stars! Catalogues. The stillness of Summer, the colours of Autumn, the snow in Winter and the possiblity of Spring. Laughing so hard your belly hurts and your shoulders shake. Making my friends laugh so hard their belly hurts and their shoulders shake. Castles, Museums, Gothic Architecture. Tiffany stained glass, Art Deco and Mucha. Beagles, Bear Hugs and Butterflies. Calling hedgehogs hodgepigs. Christmas trees positively dripping with decorations. Looking at old photographs and wondering about the people in them. Finding the absolute perfect pair of shoes. Finding them in the sale!
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