ChickLit                 ... Finding Your Muse: March 2018 ... Prompt: Write about a writer struggling to start the first chapter of their newest novel ... Due March 31st ... (1000-3000 words)

It was Saturday morning and the house was buzzing with life. My teen boys and the neighbour's son were currently in the basement Rec-room hollering and shouting at each other over some game they were playing on the XBox. Our family golden retriever was barking at the back door to go out while my mother was talking baby-talk to it - telling the dog to 'hold its horses'. My youngest was in her room, with the door shut, singing Ariana Grande songs at the top of her lungs. While my hubby was cursing loudly and banging doors as he traipsed in and out of the house to the garage for tools to fix the washer. Basically, there was no end to the commotion in our lively home.

But I couldn't enjoy it today. I hadn't been able to enjoy it for weeks. I sighed with frustration and looked out the window of my in-home office. It had a view of the lawn between our house and the neighbour's. There was an enormous old maple tree between the two properties that my mother had hung some bird feeders on. I watched now as chickadees and yellow finches flitted back and forth from feeder to feeder and from branch to branch while waiting their next turn. They were fun to watch from time to time. Right now, they were just a welcome distraction from the endless loop of non-creativity my mind was stuck in.

I spotted the neighbour's cat, Chirp, casually walking toward the tree. He came to sit under the feeders and looked up at them with keen interest. I thought, 'If my mother sees you, she's going to put the chase to you Chirp!'. But, just then, our dog Molly-girl, whom Mother must have finally let out, came dashing around the side of the house making a b-line for Chirp. His barking scared the poor cat right up the tree. He climbed up way past the feeders and sent the birds scattering in every direction. Our good ol' dog proceeded to jump and bark incessantly around the tree trying to get to Chirp, who was crouched down, ears flat, hair raised, hissing for all he was worth. What a sight!

In a few minutes the barking would get to my Mother and she would come to investigate. She'd end up hauling Molly-girl away and then return to unceremoniously shoo Chirp out of the tree with a broom so that her precious wild birds could come back and have a go at the feeders again. She hated the neighbour's cat. He was a very good bird hunter unfortunately.

I turned away from the lively seen and looked at the black screen of my laptop. It had gone into sleep mode while I was distracting myself. I tapped it lightly to bring it back to life - to bring it back to the blank page I'd been agonizing over for weeks on end now.

There was so much going on all around me on a daily basis and yet I didn't feel the least bit inspired these days. Something was definitely wrong with me. I groaned and dropped my face into my hands. I stayed like this until I heard my Mother shouting at Molly-girl to 'hush-up'.

Looking back out the window I saw Mother holding Molly's collar with one hand and poking at Chirp with a broom in her other hand. It was quite comical, really. I smiled at the trio and would have laughed but I was running low on emoting much of anything these days. I couldn't seem to cry, even though I desperately felt I needed to, or laugh at all now. It was just too much effort. Like, writing this new novel was too much effort. I glanced down at the blank screen and scuttled the urge to snap the laptop closed and hurl it across the room. The laptop was not the problem.

Someone was lightly tapping at my office door. I cringed a little but also welcomed yet another distraction from the offending blank page. "Come in," I called out.

It was my hubby who poked his head in the door. I knew, just looking at his face, that he was having a miserable morning. His grumpy expression pulled at my heart-strings. I got up from my chair and met him half-way as he came in, closed the door behind him and walked toward me.

Before he could utter a single word I wrapped my arms around his neck, got up on my tip-toes and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. I never got tired of kissing this man - day or night. He wrapped his arms around me, pulled me in tight to his chest and heaved a sigh as he let some of his earlier frustration go while he kissed me back.

The kiss didn't last long but the embrace continued as he sunk his face into my wildly curly shoulder-length hair and whined into my ear, as only a grown man can, "I can't get it going. I tried everything. I even called up my brother for some advice." That last statement was saying a lot since Derrick hated to ask his younger brother Matt for anything at all. The two were only 11 months apart, but, instead of being close like our boys were, Derrick and Matt had a very volatile relationship.

I leaned back from him and took his handsome face in both my hands. "Well then, lets you and I go shopping."

He looked doubtful. "Can we afford it? A new one?"

I smiled at him and said, "No, but we can't afford to go without either. Not in a household of seven, if we include the dog!"

He gave a little laugh and I grinned happily at him before I pulled his face down for another kiss. This one a little sweeter than the last.

"Will we put it on your credit card or mine?" he asked as he gave me a final squeeze before letting me go so we could both get ready to go shopping for our unscheduled expenditure.

"Mine," I told him with confidence. He looked back at me as he opened the office door. His eyes were full of uncertainty.

I gave him a winning smile, which I didn't really feel, as I sighed and shrugged my shoulders. "I need the motivation," I told him honestly. "If we put it on my card then I'll have all the more incentive to buckle down and get this book written. I've been dragging my feet for 3 months now. I need to get it started. Unpublished books just don't sell." He gave me a little understanding smile, which went a long way to making me feel better about my decision. Arguments could be fun but sometimes you just needed someone to believe in you and say 'Okay, lets do it your way.'

It was time for change. I was sick and tired of not being inspired. I was sick and tired of having nothing to write. I was sick and tired of the blank page I looked at every single day for the past 12 weeks. And, most of all, I was sick and tired of myself.  I needed this extra push. I knew financial stress could lead to writer's block but, in my case, I felt a little financial pressure might be just the inspiration I needed to finally get out of my head and just get typing.

Once we were out in the hallway and headed to our bedroom to change for our little shopping excursion, Derrick draped his arm across my shoulders and gave me a little tender squeeze. He then half whispered in a cheerful voice, "Have I told you lately that I love you, sweetheart?"

It was great to hear his good mood and high spirits were restored. I wrapped my right arm around his back and gave his waist a reciprocating squeeze. I was feeling better too. In fact, I was feeling motivated, which was a welcome change. It looked like my newest novel was going to get written after all.

Well, just as soon as we got back from shopping for our new washer. I wasn't about to let him pick out the newest addition to our household on his own. Heaven only knew what sort of cheap, bargain, base-line model he'd come back with.

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