I have a story itch. I know it’s there, teasing me just beyond my reach. It smells like fantasy. I would love to write some more fantasy. It’s *right there*, just beyond my sight. I can see it hovering there, and I keep straining to make out its shape. It’s annoying. It flickers, singing a sweet shiny melody, but I don’t even know what it IS so I can’t ignore my other to-dos to satisfy it.
I tried doodling on scrap paper the other day to see if my subconscious knew what my wicked muse was trying to tell me. But you know how he is. He just winks and smirks with a little swish of his memsha and goes sneaking off into the Shadows.
I scanned my research shelf to see if any lightbulbs went off. Was he wanting me to do a little research? Maya? Nope. The Mound Builders? Nope. China? Japan? Celts? Nadda.
Egypt? Greek? Fairytales? Regency? Victorian England? American Civil War?!?
I’m getting desperate here.
The smug bastard. I think this calls for a new moleskin notebook and the magic purple pen.
2 thoughts on “The Itch I Can’t Scratch”
That evil assassin er muse 😀 Hold his rahke for ransom! Or send Sig after him. Victor is certainly a match too if you can get him out of the board room!
Power to the purple pen!
God, I’ve been there before. Usually, my muse is more likely to punch me in the back of the head with an idea than tease, but when he DOES tease, the b*st*rd is a frickin NINJA about it.