I reach out, desperately hoping for some sort of response. It’s a blank well of nothing. It’s not empty and dark – just blank. There’s nothing there, and it’s as if there was never anything there to begin with. My muse has up and left me, leaving behind not even a single wispy trace that she once resided within.

All I ask is that come November she returns, with her bags overflowing with words, scenes and great happenings for my characters…otherwise reaching that 50,000 word goal is going to be pretty impossible.

To keep up the enthusiasm (don’t want it to dissipate before November even arrives) I keep repeating this quote in my head.

Alice laughed: “There’s no use trying,” she said; “One can’t believe impossible things.”
“I daresay you haven’t had much practice,” said the Queen. “When I was younger, I always did it for half an hour a day. Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.”