Writers and their muses are odd characters. Sometimes I think my muse is a temperamental two-year-old. I open my computer, start a file, and begin to type ideas. Fine. Great. I come up with several options, and choose the one that feels the most interesting. Everything’s flowing smoothly so far.
Then I bring up my short story template, give the file a title and start to write…
And what appears on the screen is nothing even remotely similar to any of the ideas I came up with when brainstorming!
It’s like my muse knew all along what the story would be, but had absolutely NO intention of sharing the idea with my conscious mind. Seriously? You couldn’t have given me a clue?
But the words are flowing, so I’m not about to stop and lecture the child who is joyfully spilling the story out through my fingertips!
And you thought writers planned their work.
Maybe some do, but my best work comes straight from my subconscious, out through my fingers, and onto my computer screen without stopping to consult my conscious brain.
Writing. It’s a mystery, but it’s also pure joy!
