by Lynda K. Scott
I got up late this morning and staggered into my office where my muse, aka Wookie the Alien Kitten-Queen of the Universe, waited impatiently beside her food dish. The minute I crossed the threshold, she spun in a tight, miffed circle and gave an annoyed squawk which I interpreted to - "Feed me!"
It's always nice to be recognized for your value and purpose in life.
Wookie was in a better mood once she had some kibble in her bowl and began purring like a little motor boat. I figured it was safe to go fetch my own breakfast. Hubby, who the girls (Wookie and her minion, Zuzu) refer to as the Dad, was buried in his newspaper oblivious to everything around him. I prepared our cereals, Zuzu's morning treats and Wookie's cat grass (I cut several blades of grass from the pot I keep on my counter after learning that it's unwise to give her the entire pot at one time). When I finally sat down, both Wookie and Zuzu were ready. Wookie curled around the leg of my chair and meowed, "Grass, now."
Zuzu gave her a silent look that said "Impatient, much?" But she didn't say anything. That's because Zuzu is far too smart to disparage the Queen of the Universe. I winked at Zuzu while I held a blade of the freshly cut grass for Wookie. I don't disparage Her Majesty either.
"What are plans?" Wookie asked around her cat grass. Her eyes closed in delight at the fresh taste of grass.
Wookie, being my muse, is always right to the point. She knows that left to my own devices I wouldn't do much more than read a good book or play games on the Internet. Zuzu eyed her treats lined up on the table. A drop of drool dangled from her lip to plop on the tile floor. I gave her a cookie. "I'm writing this morning. 10 pages I need to do at least 50 by the end of the week."
"That's good." Hubby grunted behind his paper. It rattled as he turned the pages.
Both girls watched him for a minute in case he had treats to offer them. He's a good man but talk about writing leaves him glassy eyed and suggesting I add weird elements to the plot. Like I don't come up with my own weird ideas, lol.
That's the problem. Ideas are plentiful. They leap and bound through my head wherever I turn during the day and follow me into dreamland at night. I have plenty ideas. Sometimes I think I have too many. Because when I sit down to write, I get the 'frozen-in-the-headlights' feeling that animals feel when a car races at them.
I'm not afraid of the ideas, though. I'm intrigued by them, stunned by them and overwhelmed by them. Which to use? Which character best works with the idea? (Yeah, I have characters just waiting for a chance to appear in a story too but that's a subject for another post.)
And, more importantly, when should I write them?
That's my major problem. Parking myself in front of the computer and actually putting these weird ideas to use. That's where Wookie, and even Zuzu, come in handy. You see, they like routine. So we do our breakfast routine, check with Hubby to see if he has any plans that needs my cooperation, and check the calendar to see if I have any appointments that aren't filed in my memory banks.
Putting the act of writing down as a routine assures that I will at least be in a position to actually write. I'm a hedonist at heart so if I don't do this, I won't write. It's that simple.
I'm not sure how other writers handle it, if they just automatically head to their writing area, but I need a routine to keep me on track. I may not always get my 10 pages or they may be sheer rubbish but by keeping the routine, I'm making the effort and that's important.
When my breakfast routines are done, Wookie joins me in the office, finds her sunny spot and purrs. That's my hint to get busy. So include your muse in your daily routines...even if s/he isn't an alien kitten. See if that helps you get the words on paper.
Thanks for appearing her today, Lynda!
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by Lynda K Scott
Science Fantasy Romance
Available in ebook formats
Stranded on an alternate Earth, architect and Jill-of-all-trades, Liane Gautier-MacGregor must find her way back to her homeworld before she's enslaved...or falls in love with a man who is the exact duplicate of her ex-husband.
Devyn MacGregor's alter ego as the Reiver Lord is the only way he can fight the Qui'arel and their nefarious Bride Bounty, a tax paid with human females...until he meets the oddly familiar woman who claims he is her husband. And who sets in motion the rebellion that will either free his countrymen or destroy them.