Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about writing and inspiration. Perhaps because I’m revising and editing my novel once again, knowing very well that it’s not quite where I want it to be, and musing about writing and inspiration is far easier than continuing the sometimes tedious task of “perfecting” my novel.
Thinking about questions without answers is less complicated and more enjoyable than trying to untangle problems that actually have answers, but ones that are harder to solve. Reality often has problems with answers, but the choices we’re given often leave us feeling as if we must choose the lesser of two evils. At least when I write, the difficult choices my characters face were created by me.
So perhaps I’m not so much thinking about writing and inspiration, but trying to distract myself with this topic. Instead, I think that my mind has begun to cling to the short tidbits of news that I catch before changing the channel to Merlin or Once Upon a Time. But even as a town sheriff battles a wicked stepmother, my thoughts circle back to people without homes or jobs, and I wonder if there’s enough power in the realm of fantasy to overwhelm the louder voices of reality.
Okay, I’m going to blame these dark musings on the late night hour, and tomorrow I think I’m going to pick up the second book in my series and write something new. Writing something new always seems to blur the lines of reality and fantasy to the point where I can convince myself that some magical force will solve all of life’s not so magical problems.