The Eternal Sweetness of a Completely Empty Map
It appears that over the past few days, my muse has returned from wherever she was vacationing, and inspiration has struck me for the first time in a long time. It’s nice to see her again, and good to find that she can still wield a heavy stick with which to beat me into being productive.
Beginnings are my favorite part of writing something new. It’s like landing on a new shore, with an entirely empty map laid out before you, just waiting to be filled in. I love wandering and exploring the empty spaces.
I have a character in mind, and she is growing in depth as I have been wandering the edge of my map. I know some of her secrets, and some of her desires. I don’t know her name yet, not all of it, but it’s coming. I don’t know what she looks like, but I know about her migraines and insomnia and sleepwalking.
I know some of the house she lives in, and the general place where that house sits. I know it’s on a hill. I know the view outside the window.
I know there’s a pillar of black smoke coming from somewhere in the town at the bottom of the hill. Something is on fire.
I know her story will begin quietly.
I know not to tell you everything that I know, because then when you read this story, there will be less of a new land for you to discover on your own, once my own map has been finished.
I am looking forward to making words again.
Thanks, muse.
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