We Are NOT A-Mused.

My muse has gone missing. I can’t find the voice for anything I want to write. My novel won’t talk to me, my blog is taunting me rather than being an outlet, and in recent days I’ve taken to spending huge chunks of time doing anything but being near the computer.

Yesterday, for example, I:
– re-arranged the linen closet
– took care of all the garbage, which is usually Fuzzy’s job
– cleaned the kitchen, a lot
– cooked rice to mix with the leftover stir fry for lunch
– baked chicken and rice for dinner, after chopping lots of veggies to roast with the chicken

And today, I:
– woke up before seven, despite not going to bed until nearly two
– made a pot of coffee, and drank it all before noon (well, only three mugs full)
– baked banana bread
– cleaned my downstairs desk
– cleaned my upstairs desk
– filed a ton of old financial documents
– rearranged my file drawer

Do you see any writing in there? No, I don’t either.

I have been in a reading mood – in the last week or so I’ve read the first two Sookie Stackhouse novels, and the first one and a half coffee house mysteries taking place at the fictional Village Blend in New York.

And tonight? I’m watching some show on PBS called “THE MOON” that KERA’s website claims is from 2007, but no one seems to have any information about, and it’s driving me crazy because the narrator has a soft, gravelly, British voice I could listen to forever, and he sounds SO familiar, and I can’t figure out who it is.

When it’s over, I think I will go take a bath, and see if being immersed in lovely warm, sudsy water recalls my muse.

And if that doesn’t work? Well, there’s some lovely chilled chardonnay in the fridge.


My twitter feed is full of friends and acquaintances remarking upon the chill in the air this morning. I woke to a weather alert from the desktop client from Weather.com, warning me that severe weather was possible. This being Texas, “severe” means “there might be frost.” While the part of me that is happiest in cities finds this ridiculous – frost is hardly severe – I have to remind myself that much of the country is still involved in agriculture and such, in which case frost can be an issue…though, honestly, it’s nearly Halloween. If the upper midwest hasn’t had snow yet, they’re all wagering on when the first flakes will fall.

And yet, waking up to a 45-degree chill is sort of bracing. It’s cold enough to justify turning on the heat, but I find myself unwilling to do that. While we do have central air and central heat, air conditioning cools but does not refresh, and right now, after a couple of days of wide open windows, the house feels breezy and light, and not stuffy, and I don’t want to click the heat on and ruin that.

Besides, it’s not 45 degrees IN the house.

I had planned to sleep late today and then work on my own writing, since I’ve got nothing due until tomorrow, but even though I went to bed around two, and took melatonin, I was up slightly before seven. Even the dogs were restless, asking to go out, and then standing there on the deck doing nothing.

I poured a glass of cranberry juice and came back to bed, and now that I’ve written this entry, I think I might follow their lead and curl up for another hour or two.