By Nichole Giles
You know what’s funny? I have lots of blogs, and there are days when I want to post on every one. I have all these topics floating around in my head, and I think, “Hey, I should blog about that.” But usually this happens as I’m driving around, running errands, and well, really when it’s just not convenient to sit down and write.
I know, I know. You’re wondering about the location of my handy dandy notebook at this point. Well, I do write down my ideas most of the time. But the problem is, when you have sentences in your head, sometimes you have to write them as they’re thought, or else they’re gone by the time you grab your pen. And then it’s lost forever.
And the problem with keeping several different blogs is that it’s so easy to spend all my writing time blogging instead of working on my novel, or editing, or doing other important things. Seriously, whenever I know I need to edit another chapter of my book, I suddenly think of four different blog topics, and have to hurry and write them before I forget. Is it convenience or an excuse? Or is it my muse banging on the door of her cage insisting I let her out so she can speak?
Yesterday, I had ideas for about five blogs. But it was bedtime, and I’d had a long day. So, I wrote a few prompting ideas and went to bed. And now, here it is, my day to post—usually I write my posts a few days in advance, just FYI—and I have nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.
How did that happen? So here I sit, staring at a blank screen thinking, “Hey, it’s my day to post! Muse? Hello? Are you there?” But she’s strangely silent. She won’t speak to me. What do I do now? Well, I suppose I’ll go get her some lunch and see if I can coax her out of hiding.
2 comments:
I'm with you. Sometimes I spend a whole week with an idea thinking I've got it solid in my mind, but when I sit to write it, all my great ideas are gone and sometimes I can't remember why the idea seemed important. good luck with your muse.
Thanks, Keith. I did end up getting some things written, just not things about writing. That was okay with me, since I figured at least I wrote something. Right?
Nichole
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