If you’re here looking for the WIPpet Wednesday link, you need to wander over to A Keyboard and an Open Mind. If you missed they why behind that, you can read about it HERE. Short version: I need to step down as admin. Several others jumped in to assume duties.
I spread my hands, palms up, in a gesture of supplication. “What is it you want from me? Besides the impossible, that is.”
And immediately I’m struck with the mental image of a scene from the original Star Wars.
Luke Skywalker and Yoda. Yoda wants Luke to salvage his sunken x-wing fighter from the depths of the swamp.
“I can’t,” Luke complains. “It’s too big.”
Yoda reprimands him. Gives him a speech about size not mattering. Luke gets all moody and sullen and tells the Jedi master, “You want the impossible.”
He walks away. Yoda raises the fighter out of the bog.
I look toward the hulking shadow. My muse is definitely no Yoda. It’s more a Darth Vader than anything.
“I don’t believe it,” Luke says after Yoda retrieves his fighter.
And Yoda, sage and wise, replies, “That is why you fail.”
I’ve always loved that scene. Until now. Until my muse throws it in my face as some sort of reminder or cryptic lesson.
I blow out a sigh. “Fine. It’s not impossible. It’s just…sometimes, everything altogether…you don’t always want stew, you know? Sometimes you want your meat and potatoes and vegetables all separate, not thrown together in one big pot.”
My muse remains still and quiet, and I can’t be at all sure it understands what I’m getting at. I’m not sure I understand it. But the underlying tension in the room has begun to slide away.
“You know what I think it is?” I ask.
I’m back to pacing about the chamber, toying with things, my fingers working independently of my mind. I pay no real attention to the owl’s feather, the scattered reference photos, the can of air freshener. They are merely distractions.
“Bound in Shadow is in limbo,” I say. “EoD is still trying to kick my ass. I feel like I can’t move on until it’s done. Readers are waiting. I’m waiting. I hate waiting. I need to just pull on my big girl panties and get it done. But…waiting. Stalled. Stuck.” I growl low in my throat. Equal parts frustration and anger. “All that energy I had for my projects in September? It’s hiding somewhere. And then you.” I jut a finger my muse’s way. “You’re all like, ‘Here, try this. Oh, here’s a brilliant new idea. Wouldn’t this be fun to do?’ Well, sure, why don’t you clone me then so one of me can go to work and take care of all the other shit.”
I realize I’m yelling and suck in a huge breath, rolling my shoulders back, filling my lungs. I place my hands on my hips and look around. Really look this time. My eyes track to my white board which is…white. Vacant. I purse my lips. I need a list. What needs to get done. Item by item. Those things out of my control, like BiS at the moment, I have to put out of my mind. I need to focus. I need to pull the meat, and potatoes, and vegetables out of the stewpot.
“All right then.” I grab the red marker. “Number one, pull head out of arse.”
That finally elicits a low chuckle from my muse.
That’s as good a start as any.