The muse makes her appearance at 6 am.
But here’s the rub. I am not a morning person. I am only up at this godforsaken hour because the Chihuahua refuses to acclimate from Eastern time to Pacific Daylight Time. Haley gets up each day precisely at six, jumps joyfully on my head and announces, in her own Chihuahua way, that the day has dawned. Dutifully, and because having a Chihuahua banging at your head is not that pleasant, I get up at six to feed and walk her. The muse is also awakened by the 8-lb monster, and it is during those tweams–the fleeting moments between dreaming and waking when you are finishing up a most delicious dream–that she fills my creative mind with the most brilliant of writing insights. Alliteration abounds and cadence croons.
But I have to pee, then feed and walk Haley. I have to get myself dressed and then there are so many emails and blog posts (like this one!) to write. By the time I settle in to the business of actually writing my book, the muse has vanished. So I end up cleaning the bathtub or polishing the silver (not really, we don’t have any silver), or reading the book of someone who, you know, actually finished their book.
Of course, this could be just one big excuse to avoid writing about the depression that preceded my incarceration, er, hospitalization. Depression is hard enough to deal with when you are in the middle of it. Writing about it years later brings up a lot of old s*%t I frankly just don’t want to think about right now.
So tell me, fellow writers, am I alone here? What are your favorite procrastination excuses and how do you stop avoiding and start writing?