Muses are supposed to inspire. But does that mean they get to sit back and be all ethereal and flowery with the prose? Heck no. I know that I need a kick-butt, take charge muse. A drill sergeant. One who’ll scream at me every time I lollygag on my writing. She needs to be on my ass every second of every day. If she slacks, then I slack. And then, creativity or not, nothing gets written.
Let’s get down to brass tacks. We all stare at the computer sometimes with nothing to write. Or worse, we procrastinate and never make it to the computer. We blame our muse. It didn’t inspire us. Hell-to-the-no. Your muse doesn’t need to inspire you. It’s just words. Who cares what they say, just write them down. You can fix it all in revision.
No, the purpose of a muse is to get our butts off the couch, in front of the keyboard and typing. Every day. All the time. We need Kathy Bates from Misery. When we get off task, she’s there, sledgehammer in hand, ready to pulverize our ankles. Only hobbled, can we truly write.
Such a thankless job. I should really make her a coffee or something. I’ll just whip downstairs and…
She’s yelling again. Telling me she doesn’t want my damn coffee. And if I don’t get my butt planted in that chair, she’ll… I get the message. Back to writing.