My muse is in full anarchy mode. I'm pulling my hair out. I got a sense she was starting to revolt when I posted my Veered off the Main Road entry, but it's official. Sadly, I don't think she even knows what direction SHE'S going in.
Last night was all over the place. By the end of the evening I'd given up any hope of working on Damarion, blurted out 3 horrible story ideas, 2 "maybe has potential" stories, and 1 "what the Wisconsin?" idea. Then I thought I'd try my hand at the rewrite request but found her refusing to speak to me.
I swear this Muse is going to take what's left of my sanity. I'll end up a babbling, old, grey-haired crazy woman with an imaginary parrot on her shoulder.
Good writing all! (May your Muses be better-tempered)