2018 - The Year of the Muse

2018; a new year, new beginnings. This is always the hardest part of the year to write; cold mornings, going to work and coming home in the dark. Inspiration levels are turned all the way to 11 on cyrogenic and distractions abound - I find it easy not to draft anything; only thumbnail sketches - pencil smears in my notebook.

Every year, we start out with good intentions, only to watch them fall like nine-pins by the middle of the month. Sins are counted, calories are burned and the whole January hang-over is handled with large doses of abstemiousness. Tracksuits and running shoes are stowed, the take-away menu is fished out of the recycling bin (in case we’re both home late from work).

The gym is seen as a medeival torture chamber

So I nudge my muse from her hibernation – this year, its Ann. Ann apears in an early draft of the next novel. Like a wraith, she hovers just over my shoulder. On the page, her appearance is the spur to continue. I don’t even know where she came from, she just arrived like an unexpected guest for dinner. I owe the rest of the novel to Ann – she not only takes root, she’s in it for the jaunt.

In it for the long-haul.

So this year, instead of fretting about weight, exercise, taking an extra step up along the evolutionary ladder, I’m making 2018 ‘The year of the muse.’ I’m making it the Year of Ann.

I owe the novel to her.

Now that she’s sitting comfortably, I will tell her my story.

And I will raise a glass to the muse.

06.01.18

 

Comments

If 2018 be the year of the muse... write on!