I have never experienced anything like it. I blame my hubris from last week's vlog. By saying that I write 2,500 words per day (when I'm writing), I must have triggered something in my brain that made me complacent. I brag that I have written as many as 10,000 words in a day and that 500 words would feel like failure.
Result? I haven't written a word since last week. The book I'm working on ceased to speak to me. My muse has gone silent. It is as though the gods want me to atone for my reckless exuberance. To that end, I no longer make any assumptions about output.
What have I learned? The book I have been trying to write may not be the book I should be writing. I have decided to put it aside and allow my mind to open up to the infinite and find me a new idea that will allow me to be what I have always been--an amanuensis for my muse.
Good luck to the rest of you who are still on good terms with your muse!
Result? I haven't written a word since last week. The book I'm working on ceased to speak to me. My muse has gone silent. It is as though the gods want me to atone for my reckless exuberance. To that end, I no longer make any assumptions about output.
What have I learned? The book I have been trying to write may not be the book I should be writing. I have decided to put it aside and allow my mind to open up to the infinite and find me a new idea that will allow me to be what I have always been--an amanuensis for my muse.
Good luck to the rest of you who are still on good terms with your muse!
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