After a fairly dull spring, writing wise, I finally have hit my stride.
I started a new ms the other day, and it’s really coming along. I’d hit a dry spot in March. I don’t know what happened, but every time I sat down to write, it felt like I was breaking my own teeth. I’d change a sentence, maybe a word, but I was having a really hard time getting anything out. I can always revise later and make things pretty. I can’t work with an empty page.
I felt like my muse had abandoned me. I couldn’t find a song that fit my manuscript, and it showed. One of my tricks for writing is that I find a song that reminds me of those characters–or, sometimes, a couple of songs–and I listen to it over and over. I listen in the car. I listen to it on my phone when the kids are in lessons. I listen to it in my office when I’m doing paperwork.
And when I do, my characters are always lurking somewhere in the back of my head.
But I couldn’t find a song. Music didn’t inspire me. Trips to some of my favorite haunts didn’t inspire me.
My muse was silent.
So, for now, I’ve moved on.
The latest manuscript is actually a melding of the two genres I prefer: historicals and paranormals.As a matter of fact, I’m writing a steampunk.
It had a song before I’d even written a single sentence.
But I think what’s different is that I’m not stressing this manuscript. I have no intention of pitching it right now, and I’m in a holding pattern with the others, so I’m just writing. I’m enjoying doing the research and then tweaking with the history. I’m having a grand old time discussing with hubby the type of airship that will be employed. I’m loving these characters, and I particularly enjoy their interactions with one another.
Maybe my muse wasn’t lost, so much as… resting. The story I was writing is a good story, and I’ll go back to it eventually. The problem wasn’t the story, and I don’t think it was the writer. I think the problem was that it was the right story, but at the wrong time.
This one, though, feels like the story I’m meant to be writing now.