Why am I writing this post?
Because I want to give my muse a reason to show up. I want her to know that more than just yours truly is expecting to see her.
Here’s the thing: I’ve been contracted to write a book for a prestigious Taiwanese movie director (in English).
I have less than ten months to get the thing done.
I’ve started it four times. One of them is 6,000 words; the others are less than 2,000, but each time I hit a wall, whereby that inner voice says, “This isn’t right.”
Too much internal pressure? Maybe.
Do I need to relax more? Possibly.
Too self-conscious? Definitely.
I feel like I’m digging for oil; trying to find a vein that will see me through to the end. So far I’ve been hitting dead ends. Actually, it’s more painful than that; I’ve been finding veins that I think hold potential, only to watch them dry up.
So here goes.
The clock says 19:45.
By 21:15 I want to have written 750 words that I’m happy with.
Do you hear me, Ms Muse?
I’ve told the nice people who read my blog that you’re playing a cruel game, that you’re a tease, so are you going to show up or what?
Will report back to base at 21:20 hours.
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