The muse has returned.
In the end, the solution was to go out and have sodas and french fries with a writer friend, Cherri Galbiati. We sat out at Denny's until one in the morning, bouncing ideas off of each other.
(btw Cherri, if you're reading this...I've changed my mind and decided to let the dog in the story live.)
It's a relief to sit down in front of the computer, armed with a story. Sitting in front of a blank screen, with nowhere to go, is a terrible feeling. You want to produce, to create, and nothing comes. You start wondering if you're all washed up and out of ideas. You're as bad as any angsty teenager, and probably twice as annoying.
But, I now know the bribe price of my muse. French fries and chatting with a friend. I can live with that. Now to get to work.
No, you are not as bad as an angsty teenager. They have story ideas running out their ears. It is the angst, you see. It results in writing. Mind you, most of it is useless drivvle, but they have an endless supply of it!
ReplyDeleteYeah, it's pretty amazing the garbage I thought would make a good story when I was in my teens.
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