Following The Muse

I want to do what I want to do! I want to write what I want to write!

But my muse won’t let me.

For those of you who don’t believe in a muse, I’m here to disagree, but I’m not going to try to explain what I think it is. I have no way of knowing. Something internal, some creative aspect of ourselves that seems to know exactly what we should say, do, think or write. Some kind of internal dialogue with ourselves. I can even liken it to a spirit. If you believe in the Holy Spirit, I think the muse is something like that. And when you tap into that muse, when you are “one” with that muse, everything seems so perfect for awhile.

But man, it’s hard to stay there. I always try to run ahead, and leave my muse behind. Then when I stop and wait for the muse to catch up, I look around waiting and wondering what happened to it, but it’s lost. There are other times when I lag behind. My foot gets wrapped with twigs and briars as I run through a forest of ideas, and I trip and fall, calling out for the muse to wait for me.

I’ve lost the muse.

Okay, so it isn’t quite like that, but the muse is a wonderful, terrifying part of most writers’ life, and it seems to want me to write a story I didn’t think I was ready for.

The bad thing about the muse is if I try to force a story without its support, it usually sucks. Eventually the muse may come around if I keep forcing it, but I’m not happy with my work if I don’t have the muse’s support. The good thing about the muse is if it’s there, everything flows perfectly. It’s like something else is inside me, writing.

The worst part is if the muse if there, clapping me on and chocking me full of ideas, and I’m ignoring it. I’m doing everything but writing. I’m tuning it out, pushing it away, telling it to leave me alone.

Writing in my blog instead of writing what my muse is urging me to do.

Why, oh why, would a writer do such a thing?