Monday, May 11, 2009
The Dry Spell
Ye Gods, I am doomed.
I have hit the dreaded dry spell. My imagination offers me nothing but rehashes, or less, for story fodder.
I lay in bed at night, struggling mightily to call a muse. Just one. One teensy little muse. Even a little baby muse would be fine. I'll bake it cookies or anything it wants.
How do you bribe a muse anyways? Food? Candy? Drugs? Whatever, I'm ready to cut a deal. Just show me the way to the little fellers.