Muse musings.
I'm about three-quarters finished with the Sports Night fic I'm working on, though my hopes of getting the first draft done today have been dashed by realizing that there's one more scene between what I've written and the rest of the fic in my head but not knowing what it is yet. The fun of Sports Night for me, though, is actually rather a lot like what writing all of those zillions of short funny Spike/Xander pieces was back in the day; I just lie back with my eyes closed and let people talk in my head. (And thank you for being a safe space where I can say such a thing and not immediately be rushed off to the closest mental illness treatment facility.) So I'm not worried; the scene will come to me when the characters feel like talking.
I've learned a lot about my muse and its cycles over the past year, which is ironic, given how little I've actually created since the museling has come home. Not getting enough sleep for an extended period of time seems to make key parts of my brain unable to function at all full stop, but I'm relieved to find that they're still there when I do get to sleep properly. For the past, oh, five years or so I've been convinced that my creative mind was changing as I went through so many horribly stressful events concurrently and consecutively, and although I'm not through entirely I can see that my muse has changed, and that's really comforting, in a way. I wasn't crazy that I felt off-kilter creatively; I'm finally settling in this different place, and I can't wait to start writing something big and new.
Of course, that would require time and sleep, but the museling will only get older and more independent, so I'm trying to enjoy him now and let whatever comes next develop organically. I could totally be on board with more sleep now, though. Just for the record.
I've learned a lot about my muse and its cycles over the past year, which is ironic, given how little I've actually created since the museling has come home. Not getting enough sleep for an extended period of time seems to make key parts of my brain unable to function at all full stop, but I'm relieved to find that they're still there when I do get to sleep properly. For the past, oh, five years or so I've been convinced that my creative mind was changing as I went through so many horribly stressful events concurrently and consecutively, and although I'm not through entirely I can see that my muse has changed, and that's really comforting, in a way. I wasn't crazy that I felt off-kilter creatively; I'm finally settling in this different place, and I can't wait to start writing something big and new.
Of course, that would require time and sleep, but the museling will only get older and more independent, so I'm trying to enjoy him now and let whatever comes next develop organically. I could totally be on board with more sleep now, though. Just for the record.