Wednesday, September 07, 2011
Who Is Your Muse?
She looks middle aged, but as she is long dead her real age is a mystery, and one of her joys in life is annoying Douglas Adams by making him tea with boiled water instead of boiling water. She has a sly and wicked sense of humour which comes in handy when I'm writing and also when I'm reading.
I never had a muse before I turned my hand to writing comedy, which is probably a good sign that I'm now on the right track. She turned up after I'd started my re-write of my novel, about chapter 5, and has refused to leave me alone, bugging me to write until I do.
Thankfully she is used to keeping odd hours and is quite happy to turn up at 2am if that's when I feel the urge. She sits there in cotton pyjamas and pink bunny slippers reading a book, occasionally looking over my shoulder and correcting a few things. Why pyjamas? She thinks that a nightgown would distract me, though I think she overestimates her pulling power.
During the day she is casually dressed and is always telling me to take a break when I've finished a section or chapter and to think about the next part before I write. Sometimes I listen to her.
A slim brunette (dyed probably), she says the lines around her eyes are laughter lines: her life must have been a riot. Her name is unknown to me, but she is a wonderful person to have round when I'm writing, even when saying nothing.
Thankyou, my muse, for taking me this far.