I’m putting down a sign, sticking it into the 70+ inches of snow surrounding my house, and declaring my muse in hibernation. For the most part I’ve been going with the flow in this winter of a thousand storms, and been fortunate that my jobs allow me to do so. But as the snow keeps piling up my muse is shutting down.
Suddenly everything is crap. Old new, it doesn’t matter. It’s crap. And the solution? The crap is me. My muse isn’t even lecturing me with a ruler anymore. No, now she’s shivering under a blanket, eye mask in place, shooing me away with a half hearted hand wave.
But I think there’s more to this. Preparing for storm after storm is tiring. The roads have been horrendous. And there’s no end in sight. Even if there was, the snow has to melt, right? Which will just bring on a brand new set of issues for a storm weary area.
A part of me wants to wave the white flag, snuggle under a blanket, and read while I munch of Valentine’s chocolates. Sadly, even my enjoyment of reading has been a struggle. Which, in all honesty, scares me. There has never been a better feeling to me than curling up with a good book, and when that feeling fades I feel itchy.
At the end of the day, it’s going to be a long winter. Nothing we can do about that. Certainly cutting out a storm scene in my current editing project is not the solution. I resisted, but oh how my fingers twitched. My inner muse screamed “No Snow!” But I held firm. This isn’t a depiction of the winter of ’15. This is a fictional storm intended to strand my characters over night. Removing the scene will do nothing to the 70 inches currently outside.
So, there you have it. The snow has claimed my inner muse. I’m sure I’m not alone. Even the homebodies are getting cabin fever this year. I’ll do my best to enjoy the fluffy white stuff and nurture my muse until she comes out of hibernation.
Until then. Thank God for chocolate.