She's fickle. She appears and disappears at will. We can't control her. And because we can't control her, we hate her as much as we love her. We try to summon her with sex, with falling in love, with mind-altering drugs. But the fact is, she won't be summoned. She alights when it damn well pleases her. She falls in love with one artist, then deserts him for another. She's a real bitch.Sound familiar?
My Muse seems to be seduced by structure. The structure of writing practice (keep your hand moving), the structure of location (a coffeehouse or the desk by the window), the structure of quantity (1,000 words a day), the structure of attitude (don't judge), the structure of support (writing friends), and the structure of commitment (don't give up) give Her an opportunity to show Herself.
I never know on a particular day which of these may summon Her, but she seems to be attracted to hard work. Unfortunately, I'm not! Oh well. That's why I've got bum glue.