My muse is an insomniac. Put down the espresso, Muse. It might be time to taper off.
I don't really like my muse. We haven't bonded. We're not besties. We have a semi-cordial working relationship. No mutual admiration society. No reciprocal back-scratching sessions. Just a nod in the elevator. An impersonal card at Christmas, name stamped, not signed.
Muse is sometimes embarrassing, flitting about in her lavender tights, crown of flowers flouncing about her limp auburn curls, cajoling me to set words to monitor. She does not realize that I can't be forced. In the human world, she would be that eighth-grade bully who gives you a Wet Willie, a titty-twister, a horse-bite, an Indian burn, a flat tire, and that thing where you bend your knees behind someone else's to make them collapse while standing. Shame on Muse!
Between 4:30 and 5:30 this morning, Muse made sure I could not sleep. Swept away all the hard work completed by The Sandman earlier in the wee hours. Put words and ideas in my mind. Played them on a loop. Ground her bony knee into the small of my back, tickled my philtrum with one of her detached crown flowers. A regular Olympic-gold-medal-class pest.
I might write down her idea tomorrow. Just to show her that we're working on MY terms. Not hers.
The first novel I ever completed (never to be published) was called "The Constipated Muse." It was intended as a humorous account of why I hadn't become a famous painter. Few found it funny.ReplyDelete
Had to go Google "philtrum" to find out what kind of what was getting tickled. Now I have another new word in my vocabulary. Thanks.ReplyDelete
As for a mean-spirited muse who bothers you at 4:30---at least she DOES come up with a few scattered ideas. However, I'm with you on not giving her the satisfaction of hurrying to write them down.
When I'm staring at the ceiling fan at 4:30 a.m. I get no ideas; just a huge list of to-do's and what-if's that would take a great deal of work to turn into readable literature.
Write them down quickly. She may not return for a while. But certainly, show her who's boss. (Her, of course.)ReplyDelete
Oh Val! You blew off your muse?? Shame on you, at ANY hour! I don't know about you, but that kind of thing doesn't happen very often to me. And you better believe that if I don't get completely out of bed to write, I grab my handy-dandy notepad and pen on my night stand and at least scribble some words so I won't entirely forget!! Next time you're awake in those wee hours...e-mail me....I may be awake, too! :)ReplyDelete
I know that game!! I play it all too often.ReplyDelete
Your post was so aMUSEing (sic). I like that you're in charge, but I think you should listen to her.
Collaborate with that aggravator! I wrote a chapter book while walking and by the time I got home I'd lost half the book.ReplyDelete
I wonder if, perhaps, you are trying to tell me something...
Okay, I confess. Philtrum is not a word I go around wielding all willy-nilly. I had to consult my BFF, Google. It's amazing how that pops up with "name for groove under nose."
What? She won't come around every morning at 4:30? You are fast becoming the pooper to this muse party. Next, you'll be telling me that I'm going to have to chase after her. Which sounds entirely like too much effort and needless perspiration.
I need to put my little notebook by the bed. I have one at school, in my purse, and by the TV. Of course, I'm going to need one of those miner's lights to strap on my head, as I have no bedside lamp.
Now that school is starting again, I am not as free to be the phantom e-mailer at 5:00 a.m. I feel like I must lay there and try furiously to go back to sleep.
But you have all that canine company. And your rash to keep you busy.
Maybe it was the Muse who poked me on the neck three times a while back. And to think, I blamed it on some creepy household ghost!
I feel your pain. Many a time, I've created four or five scathingly brilliant blog posts while driving to and from town. Only to draw a blank when I sit down at my keyboard. The little notebook is of no help when I'm busy commenting on other people's driving habits while behind the wheel.
Here's something that works well while driving....Get one of those cheapie cassette recorder/players. Just talk your words right into it, and voile', you have it when you arrive at your destination!ReplyDelete
Wait! That smacks of technology! Val and technology make strange bedfellows. Especially in a moving vehicle.
But Val, the cassette recorder/player would serve Double Duty.Your comments to other drivers will also be recorded and you may find funny stories included in them! :)ReplyDelete
That, in itself, could be a problem. My comments to other drivers might be used to incriminate me in a court of law. But certainly not in a court of public opinion. Because I would only be saying what everybody longs to say to such drivers.
I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Val!ReplyDelete
Okay, so...the only alternative I can think of is...you need a private secretary to jot down every scathingly brilliant word you utter...AND she will be extremely efficient, AND will work for NO CHARGE...just the joy of helping you be a multi-published, multi-millionaire is pay enough! :)
Okay, you have sold me on the private secretary. Feel free to send your resume at the earliest convenience.ReplyDelete
Uh...I wasn't suggesting myself. I'd be laughing too hard at your every word and wouldn't be able to write a thing. Maybe put an ad somewhere?!ReplyDelete