“I’m going to loose you to your computer, aren’t I?”
“No, honey. I promise. I just want to get this thing going. It’ll just be a couple of hours.”
“Right. I know you.”
“No, really honey. I just want to get some stuff written up.”
That was Tuesday night as he went to bed. I’d been sitting at my computer most of the afternoon clicking away. Wednesday morning he left for an all-day seminar, and I sat down to jot down a few thoughts. When he returned from the seminar in the evening, I was still jotting. I’d called a one-day vacation, the kids were free to pursue their own pursuits, and I was typing away.
“I knew it. Do we need to hire a maid?”
“No, no, honey. It was just today. I just needed to get this stuff together, now I’ve done it, and tomorrow will be back to normal.”
It’s Thursday morning. I’ve restrained myself considerably, and have managed to get our usual morning routine started. But, then I got this idea. So, here I am, surreptitiously clicking away while dearest hubby is in the shower. It’ll only take a minute more…
I recently saw an interview with Cornelia Funke, author of the “Inkheart” trilogy. She has a beautiful little writing cottage behind her house, and after sending her son off to school in the morning, she walks back to the cottage and writes (and draws, as she is also an illustrator ). I want a cottage like that. You have to see it to really appreciate it.
Funke described ideas as soap bubbles. If you don’t catch them while they’re floating there, they will disappear and be gone forever, so you have to write them down as they come. If you’re not near a computer, use a paper and pen; if you don’t have paper, be sure to have a pen that will write on your skin. (If you go to see the “Inkheart” movie, you’ll get a little jolt of recognition at the end). If you are a writer, or want to be a writer, then this is what you have to do…write!
The past few days, I’ve been a writer. Not a good writer necessarily, and certainly not an important writer. But, the Muse has visited me. I’m sprawled out on the floor and she’s sitting on my chest blowing bubble after luscious bubble all about my head. I know I really should vacuum and do laundry and make dinner, but there’s just some irresistible force pulling me to the computer. And, I’m too weak-willed to resist.
I also know that if I don’t attend to the Muse while she’s here, she will leave. She’s very fickle that way. She demands your full attention whenever and wherever she cares to show up. And, if she doesn’t get it, then “Pooh on you”, and she abandons you in mid-key-stroke. I’ve gone through so many long, long spells when I have not been inspired to write. Now that I’m inspired, I’m sneaking in every key-stroke I can.