I should never have said that I was uninspired to work on a particular project that's been languishing on my hard drive for the past six months. I shouldn't have bemoaned the fact that I didn't know "where to go" with the plot, or "what to write" because the ideas had lain fallow forever and a day while I worked on other things.
I shouldn't have joked about my Muse being on vacation. Because she clearly took offense to it and decided it was time to pay me a little visit.
And like all put-upon Muses with their togas in a twist, she decided to sweep in just as I was most vulnerable. When it would most inconvenience me.
I know I'm not alone in this particular predicament. There you are, shrouded in darkness, snuggled beneath the covers as Morpheus sings his lullaby to you. And just as you start to drift off, it happens: A phrase. A scene. A description. A plot bunny that's been eluding you suddenly takes center stage and parades around the inside of your brain, all flashing neon lights and carnival calliope and "Pay Attention To Me!" It's brilliant and beautiful and everything you've been needing to make your work complete.
While your Muse smirks in the corner, nodding her head as if to say, "Yeah, that's right. You wanted inspiration? Guess what?"
If you're anything like me, you find yourself caught in a catch-22 of the worst sort. Do you get up and risk jotting it down somewhere before it flees your mind like a squirrel being chased by a dog, knowing that, in all likelihood, once you get started, it's going to snowball and you'll be up for the next few hours caught in the ecstatic throes of creation?
Or do you delude yourself into thinking you'll remember it in the morning because of how awesome it is... and succumb to sleep?
For the record, I tried to ignore her and go to sleep. But she's a persistent little thing, so I spent the next two hours working on a scene for said project and now? My Muse is the one holding the flogger.
And I've never been happier.