I stare at the page, a blank white page. I know the characters, setting, and where the story is going. What I don’t know is what to write. Time is limited, and time to write is precious. Sitting down and having the brain go blank is devastating. Ideas aren’t gone. I have plenty: girls coming out of Gymnastics class, singing group all getting together for the first time, Parent’s reaction to School meeting about disability evaluation, etc. They are all great, and things that will be included in the finished story but turning those ideas into words on a page is elusive. Writing something that shows heart and emotions is not just writing the words out. They need to be weaved down onto the page in just the right way.

I claim the credit as the author and put my name on the stories and poems I write. I am just a front, however, for my muse. She is the creative genius. I’m just the person who types the words into the computer. When she is not inspired, not feeling up to it, or just taking a break, nothing I type will have emotion or a heart. Nothing will be worth reading. Usually, when my muse is not participating, I look at the blank screen and write nothing. I may try to write a sentence or two. Occasionally I get a paragraph or two. I have even written a few pages before, only to delete them because they were garbage. My muse is the artist. I am just a writer. My muse is loved by those that read her words, yet she lets me take the credit. She asks nothing of me, which means I can ask nothing of her. Wanting her to provide on-demand is just that, a want. If I am blessed that day, my muse will grace me with her presence. If she doesn’t want to, I can do nothing about it.

I am at the mercy of my muse, and I feel honored when she shows up. Today she didn’t have anything to share. So, I sit here looking at a blank page. I want to write, but I know anything I write will be deleted because my muse has not joined me today. I share my struggles with you, for the ones who can understand my problem the most are those like you who also have a muse that works through you to share a precious gift with the world. I will do as others do with me. I will praise you and think how wonderful you are when you publish a new story. Honestly, I mean no disrespect to your muse.