When words are unruly horses.

I have had times in the past, when the muse took over and the words just flowed with no real thought involved.  Last week took that to new heights as I was trying to wrap up the final scenes in Dream Song.

I had known for a long time what was going to happen, more or less. Still, the actual scenes eluded me. I’d edit, or revise, or work on another project. Then I made a deadline. I have to do this. No more putting it off. (Writers can be so good at that!)

Finally, I sat down and just started typing where I had left off. Before I knew it, things were taking shape I did not plan, adding details I had never imagined. It was the spookiest experience I think I ever had. The images were locked deep in my brain somewhere, but the only way they would come out and play was to appear on my screen. Some things happened in the story that I didn’t know anything about until the words appeared.

I still would like to know how a 3000 year old spaceship ended up inside a mountain. The ones who know aren’t talking to me. I suspect, the only way I will find out is to go back and write about it.

It’s odd how times like this are when we write and the words are nearly perfect as they fall. I suspect my muse didn’t want me playing around with events and took over. It feels humbling.  Magical.  Otherworldy.

I would strongly advise never trying to direct the muse in such times, but let your words run, like wild horses.  Eventually, they will tire and become companions subject to control again.

Yet, I think I will look for these times from now on and embrace them.  I will give the words free reign to take me where they will.