When a muse starts kicking
Some days you feel like you could change the world. Make it fall off its axis with your own actions. Anything you touch turns to gold. You have the strength and the equipment to do it.
I have no idea what the best thing to do on such days would be, but I’ve decided to sit down at a computer and type away. My muses keep kicking me so hard I sometimes wonder how I don’t have any bruises.
I will always remember this day. This is the day my new Universum was created. The Vigils, you see, have slowly and inconspicuously taken up residence in the next novel I’m writing called CALIGO. They have squeezed their way into all parts of the story and have become its integral part.
The social topics of the previous novel have shifted into an eco-political theme today. With the never-sleeping Vigils taking center stage. My muses have kicked such conspirational ideas into me that I can see the following weeks will be spent with me sweating, trying to get them out.
It has been about 60 years since the death of Vigil’s main character. His offspring are getting into things Roden Wagner could’ve never even dreamed of. And neither could I – that is until last night.
That feeling of something else moving your fingers over the keyboard, typing things that haven’t even appeared in your thoughts yet, is an enthralling one. Today I actually felt the muses kick me. One of them kicked so hard it turned a marginal character into a main one. I don’t get it! And then the muses shattered my mysterious ball. The ball I vouched to never let go of. They shattered it into a thousand little pieces and on top of it, they even managed to scold me, telling me to never get swept away by any clichés again. So many other serious topics lay ahead of me, they said.
I bowed down my head, sat down at the computer and in a few hours, I found my way to an epiphany – I created the Vigils and no matter what I did, they’d always be present in my life. Always awake, these beings will not let me simply ignore them in my new novels.
The character of Sofie claimed her rights today and pointed out to me that she was, after all, the offspring of the man whose invention provided people with the opportunity to never sleep again.
Sometimes, my characters direct my thoughts. They become alive, they have notes and they will often make me see things in a new light.
It’s time to buy a ton of coffee, stock up on a good chunk of this year’s tobbaco harvest, switch off my phone and ride the wild wave of ideas. I’ve been sucked into the world of Vigils. A world where just about anything is possible. Wish me good luck!