In which I become friends with my Muse (his name is Kip)

It’s July! And like I said in my post about Summer, I intend to write a lot this month.

But I’m slacking on the writing-blog-posts-part, so here it is: a July post 🙂

It’s nothing more than a short update on what I’m doing but still. I wrote it. (Maybe I can add the words to my daily nano count #cheaterthatIam)

I’m doing Campnano again. And having fun with a new story about a telepathic connection between a brother (who paints in only one color, either blue or red) and sister ( a barista who can make awesome Latte art but HATES milk, because the memory that clings to it rips her soul apart).

I guess the new story is also about coffee. Because I like coffee.

AND I am editing the previous story, which is turning into something that might actually be worth reading. I stumble upon sentences I don’t really remember writing and some are actually quite suprising. In a good way. Sometimes I feel almost proud of what I’ve written. And I’m not a person who finds it easy to be proud of her achievements. I’m terrible at writing descriptions, but some of them might work. Like this one:

The rain was washing away the remains of the day, clearing the city like an etch and sketch. The streets were shimmering and the air smelled like earth. Jenya loved this hour of night. Tourists were nowhere to be seen, the streets almost empty. The rain turned into a soft drizzle, making soft thudding sounds, indifferent of the surfaces it fell on. A couple hurried by, giggling and trying to balance an umbrella between the two of them. Jenya thought about rain, how it had made her feel warm and safe when she was younger, lying on her bed listening to it tapping the windows

The last six years she hadn’t felt safe at all, and when her window was tapped upon it was normally something that came straight from a nightmare.

I’m still really (really , really, really)  insecure. And a lot of times I tell myself not so optimistic things (why are you doing this/ this is not going to work/ why?/ all that time typing and stringing words together/ nobody is going to read or like your work/ etcetera). My inner editor (Pie is her name) still points out why things are not working, but hours go by where she’s just quiet. Maybe there is a muse and maybe he’s holding her hostage. Who knows?

I’m calling my muse Kip, because Kip is a cool name and sounds like a person who likes coffee. Kip and I are going to be friends.

 

 

 

Magic Hour

Morning! A short post (because I’m at work and I should be doing other things…).

At first I was going to name this post “Golden Hour”. The term used in photography for the light just after sunrise or before sunset. In this short period of time the low sun creates shadows that seem softer and the yellow and orange blend into a perfect golden colour. Good for picture taking!

But then I changed my mind.

Because I don’t want to talk about photography specifically, I want to say something about finding your creative moment. All creative endeavours need a special mind-set. Some people can turn it on and off as they wish (also known as PEOPLE  WHO NEED TO LEARN ME THIS TRICK).

Others, like myself, have to show up, do the work and hope for the best. Sometimes that best is horrible (No, I’m not exaggerating, you should read some of the things I wrote). But sometimes magic happens. Shiny, sparkling words make their way to the paper.  I think this is when people start talking about their muse, when creativity takes over your conscience brain.

Not all the words that are written during this magic hour are good.

(All That Glitters is not gold. – Shakespeare)

But sometimes they are.

(All That is Gold Does Not Glitter- Tolkien)

Yes I really wanted to use both sentences because I like that when you switch a couple of words the meaning will be the exact opposite. And yes, it probably doesn’t make sense in this context, but I don’t care.

So even though I have to show up, do the work and hope for the magic to follow, I still think I fare better at a specific time. Early in the morning is my favourite writing time, but those hours are sparse so I usually settle for second best : the hours between eight and ten in the evening.

I’m curious what your Magic hour is and how you found it. Let me know 🙂