I recently flew to Texas to attend my nephew’s wedding. I had a great time. The ceremony and reception were held in my brother and sister-in-law’s backyard. The wedding couple had chosen a Renaissance theme and the bride made and decorated the yard with green and purple fringed banners and pennants. The yard was incredible with masses of white and purple blooms, bricked pathways, marble statues, columns, benches and a big, white, tiered fountain. (My sibling and his wife don’t do things halfway when it comes to their yard.) It was the perfect spot for a wedding and if you overlook that the tents were delivered late, the vase for the sand ceremony got broken and that we had to weigh the tablecloths down with sandwich bags filled with stones because it was a tad windy, everything went smoothly.
While I was there, I managed to set aside the daily stresses of life and concentrate on visiting with family and friends and enjoying myself. I purposely left my laptop at home and went four days without checking my email, Facebook, twitter, reading blogs or doing anything even remotely connected with writing. My muse and I were on vacation.
Once I settled into vacation mode, my brain didn’t want to change gears and after I got home, I convinced myself that it might be wise to wait another day or two before I resumed my normal writing schedule. There was a lot to do. I had to unpack, put away my suitcase, do laundry, mop the floor, wash the windows, read the mail, catch up on the news…
Since I hadn’t listened to or read the news for several days, I was stunned to learn that the Rapture was scheduled for the 21st of May. Since the world was coming to an end, I didn’t see any reason to get back to my writing. What was the point? Instead, I caught up on my reading. I figured it was my last chance before the big send off. But the 21st came and went, my feet were still planted on the ground, I hadn’t written anything and there weren’t any excuses left.
I’m a writer. Not writing isn’t acceptable if you’re a writer. So I sat at my laptop and stared at the monitor. I was completely uninspired. My muse was gone. She still is. I’m pretty sure she never left Texas. She’s probably hanging around that beautiful backyard, drinking champagne and waiting for the DJ to show up and start the karaoke. I can’t blame her for not wanting to come home.
How does one round-up a wayward muse? I’m determined to bring her back. If you have any suggestions, let me know.