I had this grand plan of spending the day – maybe even the entire three-day holiday weekend! – writing and really making some creative progress on my novel. I set up our card table in our bedroom with my laptop and all the other versions and copies of my novel that I have and use to work. I downloaded a new writing program, Scrivener, in the hops to help me better organize what I have written and push the creativity.

Then my brother-in-law stopped by. Completely planned visit of course, but one I didn’t necessarily factor into my plan. We spent a while calming down his cat – poor creature will be stuck on a plane for five hours tomorrow so it’s nice to give her some non cat carrier time. And then we had to have lunch. So now my husband and my brother-in-law have gone off to visit their father and sister.

I have finally gotten to sit down and begin working in earnest. So of course that drive I had earlier. Gone. Poof. My bed is calling my name. My book is begging me to curl up with it and read it. Netflix is reminding me how many shows and movies I have in my queue waiting to be watched. My muse has completely deserted me; I have been left with no way to reach out to my characters and the world I’ve built for them.

I thought settling down and at least pounding out a blog post would be enough to awaken the muse. To bring forth that creative genius that gave me this idea in the first place. I turned on the music that has inspired scenes of the novel and illuminates the characters – it’s what generally gets my fingers itching to write. Yet I still feel as creatively dry as the Sahara. I don’t even have enough creative juice to edit and format.

Hopefully my muse will return to me at some point this weekend. As a writer I do my best (both qualitatively and quantitatively) work when the muse has taken a hold of all that I am. Even at times when I’ve scheduled to write once I sit down and begin the work she takes over. Not today apparently. So I will be patient. I will ease my way into. I will not force this novel into being.

My writing "desk" that eagerly awaits the return of my muse.

My writing “desk” that eagerly awaits the return of my muse.