Prompt: Blah blah blah
The words won’t come, but you can’t force them. The keys on the keyboard won’t press themselves any more than sheer concentration will push the ink out of the pen. Words are finicky brats and are quite easily frightened. They bubble up out of an intangible haze, but just as you reach out to them, they go under again.
They must come of their own free will, these fickle words, but it’s up to you to know which ones are worth catching. Wield your net carefully and don’t be afraid to choose the best. Brevity is alright, but it can be quite boring. Verbosity is lovely too, but can lead to much confusion.
If you do have a muse, it’s probably best not to wait around for her. She is easily distracted and quickly loses interest in anything you value. She often whispers of new ideas, new characters, new worlds while you’re waist deep in a completely different project. She sees your schedule as more of a suggestion, and every time you start complaining, she gets bored. After all her job isn’t really to be your muse, she’s really there to be your crutch. She is both a convenient scapegoat and an incomparable genius. Is it any wonder she is so unreliable?
Write garbage, write foolishness, write in a stream of consciousness, write a grocery list, write what you love about your cat, write something you would never show the light of day; just don’t leave a blank page behind. That is the only true rule.
Originally posted on Typetrigger. Fiction in 300 words or less. Please pardon typos or grammatical errors. See sidebar for copyright information.