Every writer knows that writing is an act of choice. There is a moment during the mundanity of the morning, when you glimpse a movement out the corner of your eye, and you know that the fairies have arrived. Despite any plans that you had for your day, you must write the words they give you, lest they drive you nuts, or worse, go away and take with them that feeling of magic that writing from that place brings.
This is the point where a writer must choose between sitting down at the computer or cleaning the shower. Too often, the latter is chosen and the fairies move on to another writer who would rather play their game.
Today I chose to write, so my study is sparkling with magic dust. Down the road there is a writer who has a clean shower and no inspiration. In the next town, another writer is waiting for me to stop writing so that the fairies will visit her.