The Muse
It appears that my muse hides in funny places. Most of the time, she comes to me through music, other times she comes to me from reading another's work. Sometimes she'll appear in my head with a thought at a totally random time and place. How can being at a grocery store inspire me to write about horses, which is a portion of my novel? How can being at work and being surrounded by horses click my brain to have a thought about love? It just doesn't make sense to me. Then again, a lot of things in my life don't make any sense.
This past week, I've been writing things down on paper, or typing small blurbs into my draft, making some small progress with this novel. It has to be going on about eight years now that I've been writing it and sometimes I get no closer to finishing it than I do finishing a thick novel by another writer. I'm nearly there now, but it's basically filling in the gap from the climax to the ending, both of which I've written out already. And a part of the problem is writing things that are completely useless to the plot. Deep down, I know the horses don't have much to do with it, but I can't have a story that doesn't have horses in it. That just wouldn't make sense. There are other things that I know are completely irrelevant, but I can't take anything out now, as I feel it's important. However, when I actually finish this book and it's given to an editor, I know parts of it will be taken out and changed. As long as I don't have to re-write huge chunks of the story, then I guess it doesn't matter.
And as if writing one story isn't enough, two other ideas for stories popped into my head this week. I have no idea when I'll actually get started on those, but at least I have some ideas written down for them.
Anyways, I should get back to my book, because I don't know when my muse will take another "5 month-long vacation" and leave me with no thoughts for my book. And I hate being at such a stand-still with it.
That is all for now.