My muse is either very fickle or very smart.  Or, perhaps, I’m either exceptionally stubborn or exceptionally stupid.  More likely, it’s all of the above.

I had a plan.  I blogged about my plan last time.  I was working on a new historical romance.  Once it was done or (at least) well underway, about the beginning of next year, I was going to stop and do an edit of Griffin’s Law.  The next to be published Griffin’s is complete and has been resting pending an edit.  Griffin’s is a contemporary romance set in a law school and is sort of a crossover between E-mail Enticement and a historical.  Okay – if you insist- think of Griffin’s  as the Grey’s Anatomy of the legal profession.

Anyway, I’ve been hard at work writing my new historical.  Rather, I’ve been trying to be hard at work on the historical.  I’ve been coming home after work and opening the computer to the MS every night.  I’ve been opening it faithfully every Saturday and Sunday morning for the past few weekends.  Sometimes, I’ve even written a few lines on it.  But inevitably, after a line or two, the story leaves me and I start sneaking over to my desktop to play Snood or Solitaire.  Or flipping over to check sales on Amazon, Createspace, Scribd, Smashwords, etc.  Or getting sucked into something on Google News that I keep in customized form as my homepage for Internet Explorer.

After a while, I’d feel guilty for doing whatever it was rather than writing, and I’d go back to the MS.  And I’d manage a few more lines before something lured me out of it again.  The whole thing did get me some unusually good sleep.  I wasn’t getting pulled away from the land of dreams by lying there and plotting dialogue in my head.   As Miss Snark would have said, something in all of that should have hit me over the head with a cluestick.

But no cluestick loomed on the horizon.  Just me, and my creative conundrum.  Oh, and my plan.  Don’t forget the plan.  I had plotted my course and I swore upon the altar of all of the deep fried, refried crabs in the universe that I would stick to the plan.   So there I sat, day in and day out, just me and the flying Snoods. 

See it was my plan.  When I made it, I didn’t need no stinkin’ Muse and I didn’t consult no stinkin’ Muse.  I used logic and reason in plotting a path.  And I learned all over again why I’m not a plotter.  Some writers never sit down to start a book without a pretty complete outline of all of the major plot points.  Those writers know where they’re going before they get there. It’s hard for me to understand them or to imagine how they do it, but may God Richly Bless Them and all folks in the universe who are careful and organized. 

I sit down with an idea and my keyboard and I know it’s going well when my characters take over to tell the story.  I’m not a plotter, so why didn’t I know I wasn’t a planner either?

The distraction didn’t work and none of the Snoods hit my thick skull hard enough.  So Muse got desperate.  She recruited —–MR. BRICK.  And we all know, Mr. Brick always gets the job done.  So Friday night after work, I gave a deep sigh and opened my keyboard, never knowing that the cohorts in crime were about to strike.  

They were devious.  It started as just another bout of Muse’s distraction.  Only this time, instead of Snood, Solitaire or Google News, Mr. Brick struck my head or my mousing finger or both.  I frittered away time by reviewing some of the files in “my documents.”  And EUREKA –   Muse finally got her way.  I landed on one I’d started sometime between E-Mail Enticement and A Sixth Sense of Forever 

It’s a contemporary romance/legal suspense that follows in the footsteps of E-mail.  Yes, Virginia, it occurs where love and law intersect.  There’s a love triangle, a family law firm and a murder.  The hero’s gonna be charged with killing his brother and there’s gonna be a trial.  A real, live murder trial.  I’m sure there’s also gonna be a Mary Anne style over-the-top high drama happy ending.  It’s just that right at the moment, I don’t have the vaguest idea what it’ll be. 

See, there’s no plot, no outline and most definitely — no plan.  There’s just me and my fingers itching to get back to the keyboard because I can’t wait to tell the rest of the story.  By the Great Green Toadfrog – I can’t wait to find out what the rest of the story might be.  All I know is that if I have fun telling it, I believe you’ll have fun reading it too. 

I seriously hope Muse lets me get back to my historical.  I loved the story, loved the characters and thought and think it’ll be a great tale.  But for now, Muse seems to want me to linger right there at the intersection of love and law.  As she usually is, Muse is probably right.  There’s a great goobeldy gob, frog kicking humongous pack of great writers doing historical romance. 

However, there aren’t quite so many writers out there with law degrees who tell tales about what happens when love and the law throw down.  I’m not sure if its Muse or Mr. Brick gifted with the marketing genius.  Maybe it’s a combination.  Just what have those two been up to, anyway?  Should I look forward to some buff little creative…..err,  Mricks?  Bruises?  Musey B’s? 

Guess I should have suspected that Muse and Mr. Brick would get together sometime.  In a few months, if my skull survives, y’all can look forward to a Myrtle Beach Murder Mystery where once again the law learns that tangling with love can only lead to one place — a happy ending.

So, I leave you with one piece of advice.  In an insane world, planning and plotting is the most insane, inane waste of time.  Instead, just follow the Muse wherever she leads.

You may not wind up where you thought you would, but you’re bound to be someplace interesting.

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