Open the door

You’re sitting on the couch with a bag of potato chips when the door crashes open.  Chips go everywhere.

It’s your best friend, and boy are they excited.

“Guess what?” they cry.

“What?” you answer, hugging the chips close.

“We’re going to hike up Mt Kosciusko!”

Well, that sounds exciting.  “When?” you ask.

“Right now!”

And they haul you up off the couch and out the door.

Do you think you’ll make it to the top?

No, I didn’t think so.

Let’s try that scenario again.

Your best friend charges through the door, all excited.  You’re kneeling down, tying the laces on your hiking boots.

“Guess what?”


We’re going to hike up Mt Kosciusko!”

“Awesome!”  you say.  “Let’s go!”

Because you’ve been training for this for months.  Your friend comes around every morning and you go jogging.  Every weekend you’re out in the bush, camping and hiking.  You’re fit and prepared, and so are they.

Do you think you’ll make it to the top?

Hell, yes!

Now lets do a switch. 

You’re the one at the front door.  And in the room beyond is your muse.

You’ve got a new project in mind.  You throw open the door, all excited to share it with your muse.

What do you see?  Is your muse sitting on the couch with a bowl of microwave popcorn and 10 Things I Hate About You?

Or are they lacing up their running shoes?


24 thoughts on “Open the door

  1. As you so aptly put it in another post, my muse is a working gal. I’ve always shied away from saying ‘I have a muse’ because that would mean I wrote on someone else’s whim, which isn’t the case. When I sit down to write, I’m writing. When you said that I went, HA! I do have a muse, but just like me, she doesn’t shy away from work. If I opened that door she’d be ready, if not already working on something of her own to share with me. I think we have our fall outs occasionally, but that tends to mean there’s something wrong with the direction I’m trying to take the story – not because I can’t write. Shoot, I think I procrastinate more than my muse does.

  2. I think my muse is usually the one knocking at the door, trying to convince me to come out and play! It’s not that I don’t get round to the writing, and it’s not even that I don’t enjoy it, but sometimes my muse does have to drag me to the keyboard. :)

  3. Loved the illustration! It rings so true.
    When I’m working with my stories I get to know them and we go places. When life gets in the way we don’t go anywhere. We’ve been jogging lately. :)

  4. I thought you were going to say it was an agent or publisher that comes knocking. My experience is that opportunities like that really do come out of the blue, and if you’re not tying your hiking boot laces when the door opens (sitting there with a well-polished manuscript, a synopsis, hook, and elevator pitch all ready) you won’t be going on any wild adventures that day.

    • What I was saying is that you can’t expect your muse to be on the ball, if you only see them now and again. Talk daily, and they’ll be ready for anything :)

  5. I hope mine’s watching rom-com’s with some sort of frilly drink in hand. ‘Cause that’s the frame of mind I want her in when we get to work on that next romance novel…. ;-)

  6. She’s trying to tie her laces, but is having trouble reaching them. Will there be cookies atop the mountain? She might make it.

    Maybe she’s not getting enough credit. But she is slow…

  7. My muse is chain smoking, drinking, and probably reading Bukowski or Palahniuk and giggling at the naughty bits. I wouldn’t ask her to scale a damn thing with me, unless it was the slippery exterior of a vodka bottle.

    I think I love her. :)

  8. Love it!!

    And lately, I rather suspect my muse is tapping a booted foot and checking her watch, while I stumble about the garden trying to find her front door.


  9. I think my muse would have her shoes on but would probably be staring at the television. I could get her to come with me, but I’d have to make it worth her while (as all stories should be). Interesting post – I’m crossing my fingers that my best friend never looses her mind and does this to me, because if she does, she’s getting a pillow to the face.

    • I disagree about “making it worth her while”. The muse should be on board, not waiting for bribery or cajoling before she’ll climb that mountain.

      • What I meant by making it worth her while was that the story itself has to be one I’m invested in, one that I really have excitement for and the desire to write. I can’t expect my muse to give it her all when I’m not giving it my all. I guess I should’ve been more clear. Though I will say the occasional chocolate reward never hurts anyone.

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