MY MUSE

D. Wallace Peach put out a call on her Myths of the Mirror blog site challenging authors to write about their muse. I wasn’t going to write anything and then this happened. 🙂 True story!

“Jan. Jan. Wake up.”

Someone taps on my shoulder.

I burrow deeper under the covers.

Louder this time. “Jan. Wake up.”

I groan and roll over with one eye open. “What do you want? I’m sleeping.”

“Yes, I know but wait until you hear this.”

I rub my eyes and yawn, then glance at the clock.

“It’s 4 am. I’m tired. I work hard and I need my rest. Can I just take some notes and get to it when the sun comes up?”

“No! If you do, you’ll lose it. Come on.” He reached out a hand and I took it, regretting that action.

Now on my feet…

“No, Love, yeh can’ wrie-that!”

What?

“That bid abou’ ‘ow sad yer life is. I mean, people ken only take so much abou’ yeh ea’in’ yer toffee in the closet.”

I sit back, stuck. But, I felt inspired to write because I felt depressed. Wasn’t that-

“No, Love. T’ain’t ‘inspired’ – leastaways, not by me.”

Huh. Well… I had another epiphany, back when–

“Definitely not.” Harumph. “We’ll not be bringing politics out again.“

But–

“No ‘buts’ about it, young lady. No self-respecting writer would name a rant as ‘inspiration,’ either.”

I face another dead end as my cursor blinks in an empty page. What else can I write? Maybe poetry?

“Shtop rright therrre!”

But I only just–

“I-yuh know what you thought to do, and I’ll have none of it! Poetrrry must flow frrom an experrienced poet, one bending a keen earh to…

“You have a post to write for Diana’s prompt,” my muse said.

“I remember. I’ll do it when I get home from the walk,” me said.

“You can do both, walking and writing on your phone.”

“I know, it’s not the first time. I haven’t decided what to write, though. I took several days off from writing.”

“You’re supposed to write about your conversation with me. So just write what we’ve said so far and continue.”

“Okay… now I must slow down my walk. Good thing it hardly has any traffic in the neighborhood. I still ought to be careful. One eye on the phone, one eye on the road… alright, I’ve done this much.Then what?”

“Let me paint you a picture.”

“What are you talking about? I’m the in-house artist. Besides, we’re walking. How can you paint?”

“I’ll show you, just wait.”

“I…

Stairs are in my dreams and in my reality.

“Go down and see what’s there.”

Me: “The steps, do you think they are even?”

“are any of us even?”

Me: “good point, I’ll try my luck on them.”

“What if you hop on every other one?”

Me: “what would be the point of that, I could fall?!”

“Isn’t it just fun to hop, sometimes, you know for no reason?”

Me: “Oh, good idea”

“BRB, I have to go attack a hawk with my murder. CAW. CAW.”

Me: “But, wait, you are my muse?

“CAW.”

Diana Wallace Peach, from Myths of the Mirror, made an interesting challenge for bloggers and artists this month to write a dialogue with one or more of their muses. I’m not really a writer, so this was me trying my best. My muses don’t usually strike up a conversation. But…

My blog-writing, fantasy novelist buddy Diana Peach from Myths of the Mirror has invited her visitors to write a short story about our muses.

Heh.

I remember the last time we had a muse read-around. Man, what a blast!

I’ve finally passed 50k for NaNoWriMo–yippee! Of course, the story isn’t done yet. I’ll take a couple weeks to finish, or at least get mostly finished with it before I return to Book 2.

My Muse has been writing my posts during NaNo. Mostly. Thing is, when I hit 50k, he called Mr. E and the two of them took off on a pub crawl Down Under, because apparently bars around here are substandard.

A crisp breeze gusts through my writing office, sending shivers through me. The back door clicks shut. A scent of fried food, stale beer, and sweat permeates the air. My Muse toes…