I didn’t have the weekend I thought I would. I had plans. Big plans. Sure, I did have the sushi I’ve been dreaming about for months and months and it was good. There was much rejoicing.
However, my plan to put a serious dent in my latest WIP didn’t go well. I had the idea that writing away from home would help tempt my muse back to my side. I headed out for a little cafe with big dreams…and realized there wasn’t any parking available. Rather than fight to get into the place, I went to the library.
When I was in high school, I’d have to wait at the library across the street from my school after band practice. It really sucked not having a driver’s license, but it opened a whole new world to me. I’d been reading voraciously for three or four years, so putting me in the library meant there were books to be had! I would browse through the fiction section, picking out twelve to seventeen books at a time and read them in a week. It was Heaven. That’s the library I ended up trying to write at on Saturday.
Don’t get me wrong, it was gorgeous. Recently renovated, it’s everything you could possibly want in a library and I was in serious awe as I looked around. I got a study room for my writing session, pulled out all the necessary equipment for my muse…laptop, hard drive, MP3 player, ear buds…gum…and she left me sitting there for two hours. Two hours! Nothing worked. I tried playing with the music, trying to find the perfect song and nothing. Oh sure, I wrote, but it was all crap and I deleted it as soon as I read it. I then tried to go home for my writing session with no luck. My muse has abandoned me.
Sunday, because I’d decided to skip the store in favor of writing, I had to grocery shop. After spending five minutes pouting because they were out of The Peanut Butter Company’s Dark Chocolate Dreams, I bought what I had to and left. Football was coming on and there was no way in hell I’d miss it. Except every car I got behind seemed intent on driving as slow as possible. OH. MY. GOD. The Sunday drivers were out in full friggin’ force.
And I picked up this Sunday driver phrase from my stepdad who accused everyone driving in front of him as one. I use it all the time now as I’m trying to pass cars going slower than I believe they should…meaning they keep to the speed limit. It drives me insane. INSANE! Is it the warning signs of road rage? Probably. Do I care? Not really. I have places to go and things to not do and people who drive with all the time in the world kill me. They really do.
So…uh, what was the point of this? Oh. The weekend wasn’t horrible, but it was far from perfect. My muse needs to kick her boyfriend out of bed, have a healthy breakfast that doesn’t include alcohol, and return to me so I can write my next novella. Otherwise, I really will go insane.
How was your weekend?