I don’t believe in a muse, not really. I think creativity and productivity have its ups and downs, but I’ve always been of the idea that I can always write. If I only tell myself to, I can write.
Some months I write a little, some months I write a lot. When I don’t write I’m miserable, and yet I have to force myself to get my arse in the chair, but I do it.
Usually, I make myself write 500 words. When I struggle, that’s my goal. Sit down, write 500 words. It doesn’t matter if those are 500 words are as crappy as can be, as long as I get them down, I’ve done my part. And once I’ve written those 500 words, it usually a lot easier to write the next day.
Now, I can’t seem to get anything down. I haven’t been to work for over a week, and since I work at a mushroom farm there is no working from home. So, I’m home without pay and without anything (ha!) to do. And yet, I can’t write.
My muse has fled.
Or it’s more that my mind is fractured. I can’t focus. I worry. I watch the news. I’ve never logged in on Facebook as often as I do now. I’m planting things, thinking what if there won’t be enough food in the shops. I don’t really think it will come to that, but every so often a what if is whispered in my mind.
And what if I don’t have a job to go back to once this is over?
My dream has always been to be a fulltime writer, but I’d hoped I’d at least make enough money to feed my children when I became one.
But, it is what it is. So what do you say, should we do 500 words? I have a guy tied to a flagpole at the roof of an apartment building. I should be able to get somewhere with that, right?