Writer’s Block: The Necessity of a Muse … and Coffee
Writer’s block. That old foe. Preying on otherwise eager, ready writers. Pouncing when least expected. Usually when the writer has enjoyed a long run of unbroken creativity. Just when he entertains the possibility that he might be immune to such trivialities. Above that which afflicts the common author.
Fangs plunge deep, ripping. Tearing. Creative ichor spills from gaping wounds. The unsuspecting scribe screams a shout nobody hears, writhing and wriggling in pain as life seeps from a mutilated soul.
Okay, that’s a touch dramatic.
Nevertheless, I endured nigh on a month of unbearable blankness. I was behind on two projects as far as my freelance work was concerned, and was fast approaching the date when no less than six chapters of my novel were due. Six chapters. And I had zilch. Not a word on the page. And no matter what I tried … blank. Blank! Blankety-blank-blank.
Then I wandered into a coffee shop. One I’d never visited before. Off my usual well-worn path, truth be told. And the heavens opened. Angels sang. A new day dawned.
My two overdue freelance projects? Bang! Illuminated by a shaft of light, they were completed in the next few days.
Those pesky chapters? All six of them?
By the end of the week, I had not only conceived, but given birth to a healthy, bouncing sextet.
Yes, all six chapters completed. Each chapter over 4,000 words. Robust chapters with heart. And soul. A whirlwind of words. Almost too fast for my fingers to keep pace. I literally hammer and tonged the keyboard. Battered the poor thing.
And the river continues to flow, a perpetual flash flood that has swamped the banks of routine and responsibility. I am a wreck. Don’t sleep much. Bloodshot eyes … with heavy bags under them. Actually, the bags have bags. Can’t talk much either. I just grunt when needed, trudging from one coffee fix to the next.
And I couldn’t be happier.
My writer friends reckon there’s a Muse in that coffee shop. I’m not the superstitious type. I know better.
Ahem. So, why do I go back whenever I can? Maybe it was just a change of scenery. Or perhaps there’s something in the coffee they serve. Yeah, that’s the story I’m going to stick with.
After all, coffee is my go-to answer for everything.