Nope. I’m not going to talk about that thing women experience during menopause. The title is metaphorically used in this post for something else. So . . . here goes.
Whilst the west is experiencing the scorching and unrelenting heat of summer, it’s wet and rainy here in the tropics. One might think it’s the best time to catch up on writing. But, one is experiencing a writing “dry spell“, no amount of cozy weather can bring a bright light of inspiration to get the creative juices flowing.
I am experiencing this “dry spell” much like what the earth experiences during summertime.
After having a short but enlightening conversation with a friend, I suddenly realize that it’s been months since I did updates on my manuscript. I know that it happens to the best of us. However, with the recent events that somehow jump-started my formerly non-existent social life, my fiction writing world was put on-hold – something that should have happened because writing brings me more joy than the other stuff happening in my life.
So . . . what really happened?
Like a ho, I am once again prowling the “inspiration street” in search of a muse. Apparently, the last one that I thought might do didn’t work out. All I need right now is to find that perfect muse and put an end to this writing “dry spell” nonsense. I need to get right back on track, starting with regular posts on this blog. I find it cathartic to write rather than talk to someone who may or may not be able to really understand what I’m going through. Of course, these people will affect an understanding countenance when they’re in front of me. But who’s to know if it is really what’s going on inside their heads, right?
There’s really nothing better than to express yourself through the written word, which is based on experience. Here, I can write whatever I want and f**k those who have an opinion against it. Freedom of expression is my friend and I know I’m not alone in this.
Right now, the most inspiration I can get is through my ever-faithful music (thank heavens there’s something in my life that does not disappoint] and, of course, copious images of my adorable, swoon-worthy leading men (in my whimsical and fantastical alternate universe) Richard Armitage (even as dwarf king Thorin Oakenshield he’s hot! But what really made me googly-eyed on him was his portrayal of John Thornton in North & South by Elizabeth Gaskell – one of my favorite novels) and Henry Cavill (the latest Hollywood fixation for starring in Man of Steel and maybe . . . Fifty Shades of Grey? Hmm . . .).
Who wouldn’t be inspired by those sparkling smiles and dreamy looks? I – for one – would be in dreamland just to have those smiles focused on me . . . only me.
Anyway, inasmuch as those two heartthrobs can inspire my knickers off of me, I need someone who’s concrete, a muse that I can see face-to-face and even interact in a regular basis. If my re-emergence in the active social life doesn’t yield such a person, maybe I’m looking around the wrong street.
THE GOOD . . . THE BAD . . . AND ME. 