My muse is missing in action. I thought at first it was off sulking because I wanted to go in one direction with my writing and it wanted to go the opposite way. We’ve hit impasses before but they’ve never lasted this long. Previously, one of us (mostly me) has come slinking back all apologetic.
However, this time it’s different. I’ve offended my poor muse – big time! I hoped my recent weekend away would give us some time apart and it would be waiting impatiently for my return, ready to smack me into writing submission. It wasn’t.
I’ve looked in the closets, under the beds, in the garage, the garden shed and it’s not in any of those places.
I’ll bring flowers, a nice bottle of wine and maybe even some chocolate to our reconciliation meeting if it means us getting back into a working relationship.
So if you should happen to see my muse wandering about aimlessly, looking lost, dejected and rejected and will you please send it home?
You can tell it, too, that if it comes home, I will love it and hug it and squeeze it and call it George.