writer's anguish.

[katster]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH.

short story, due tonight, no fucking ideas, and the muse has decided *this* is a good time to go vacation in Tahiti.

wheeblahkillmenow.

Comments

[explorer-alpha.livejournal.com]

Write about the fun you muse is having, the fun and trouble it gets into, and the impact that its waywardness is having when it has responsibilities at home...

Is there a specific topic, or can it be anything, cause my opening paragraph, although asinine, may be a topic for consideration and then some fire... sweet cleansing fire.

I can try to think of better topics if you need a hand. My muse is locked in the corner and hasn't been let out in ages.

[katster.livejournal.com]

Well, at this point, I sorta have to catch something. There's no set topic (which may be where some of the frustration is coming from) but I know my instructor wouldn't go with that -- I guess writing about writer's block is something all creative writing students do.

I mean, you can give ideas, but none of them really seem to be catching my muse's eye to give me things to play with. And that's the frustrating part.

(And I suppose it doesn't help that I've not exactly been in a writing mood for a while.)

But sure, if you've got ideas, I'm willing to ponder...

-kat

[buran.livejournal.com]

A sentient levitating camera that floats around deciding what it wants to get pictures of!

Okay, okay, maybe I'm having too much fun being paparazzi at work.

[macklinr.livejournal.com]

"You know you're going to Hell," she said, looking away from me.

I just rolled my eyes. Here I was, minding my own business, trying to get home. Why does this always happen when I'm in town? I was annoyed, naturally, but I couldn't really blame her -- she was only spewing propaganda, she didn't know better. It didn't make me feel any better, though.

"Ma'am, I'm just trying to get home." She didn't respond to that -- I could tell she was scared of me.

I noticed that everyone else was watching me, and no one dared to sit in any of the seats next to mind, even though the bus was crowded.

As we went on the freeway, crossing over the river, a blast of energy hit the road near us. The bus started to tip over. I concentrated for a second, and the bus fell gently back on its wheels. As it sped on, fleeing the superhuman tantrum behind hit, I ran up to the driver.

"This is my stop."

He looked at me and started to speak when he saw my badge. 58th Hyperborne. I just stared back at him. He opened the door without stopping, and I jumped out. I looked back at the jerk who was blowing up parts of my city. As I ran toward the scene and summoned my sidearm, a thought ran through my mind.

Maybe I will end up in Hell, but not today.

(Not that I'm saying you should use this, but if it has any nugget of inspiration, run with it. I wrote this thinking about an opening line someone fed me last night: "You know you're going to Hell.")

[crossfire.livejournal.com]

You might want to go through some of the back posts in storyseeds. Maybe something in there will set off an idea.