Musing on Muses

A few months ago Tabby reached out to all us Nocturnal bloggers and asked us if we wanted to participate in a blog about muses. She was interested in hearing how we felt about our muses, if they had a name, and if we had a picture of what we thought the pesky devils looked like.

At the time I tried to find a way of expressing my muse, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it. I’ve never been one of those authors that personify their muses. I’ve heard of authors that have names and whole back stories for their muses. I’ve never gotten that close to my muse. Mine had always been more mysterious, dropping ideas into my mind at random times in random different ways from a far. No Goth angel in the corner or crazy demanding dominatrix.

But over the course of the last month I’ve come to an all new realization for my muse. I understand her better now. I’ve even found a picture that represents her to me. My muse is a temptress.

She dangles ideas in front of me when I’m already busy with another project, or I’m knee deep in edits. She tempts me with ideas I know I shouldn’t follow through, convincing me to leave the idea I’m currently working on to try something new. She finds the worst times to sashay in front of me with another great idea. And my muse doesn’t enter the room quietly. Oh no, she makes a scene. She slams into my head loud and outrageous and impossible to ignore.

But she’ll just as easily say nothing to me. She’ll stay silent for long periods of time, and I’m not sure what I’ve done wrong but I keep trying to make her happy. I give her everything I can think of to satisfy her. I give her lots of sleep, reading material and time. Yet she remains silent, until she wants to talk and then I’m overflowing with inspiration again.

She gives me ideas at the most random times, from the most random places, to make sure I stay on my toes. I can never predict what’s going to give me that idea I need now. The book I’m reading, the quiet drive home, the walk to the cafeteria. It’s all a mystery. As soon as I think I’ve figured it out, my muse changes it up. She doesn’t like me feeling comfortable or predictable.

I can’t really complain. Though my muse does give me plenty to work with, she’s never abandoned me for long, nor is she as temperamental as some other muses I’ve heard of (some other writers have horror stories for how long their muses stay away or how much they fight with them). She gives me everything I need, while often in over abundance. Which is why I’ve been able to have to releases within two weeks of each other this month, Heart’s Ultimatum on February 14^th and Snow Day on March 1^st. And there’s definitely more to come. My muse is tempting me with another story even now, while I furiously try to work on the next story in my series, trying to show me all the possiblities.

For all these reasons I've decided to name my muse, Jessica. After the greatest temptress of all.

Hopefully by understanding her better, my muse and I, might be able to come to a better working agreement. One that will allow me to explore more of the ideas she gives me, will still staying track on the projects I'm working on. But only time will tell. A temptress always has a way of knocking you on your ass and have you coming back for more.

A Tribute to Struggling Writers

Good day, all! I have a special treat for you.  In spite of concentrating my efforts on NaNoWriMo, I decided to "fix" this song.  I mangled it to make it work for writers. It used to be Big & Rich's "Big Time", but now it's Allison's "Big Time". I'm probably going to get sued, but I think this is something we can all agree on (except hopefully we do make the Times bestseller list). All together now, pretend you've just run into your favorite big name author at the coffee shop and you're telling him/her about your writing.

My clothes might be a little unkempt for your taste my friend
My computer cost a little less than watch you're wearin'.
I'm glad you stumbled in here on your book tour trip
Before you toss 'em, are you gonna eat those chips?

Well, I bet your life is beautiful
And you looked good on the Today Show
I'm doin' pretty good myself
Hey, pal, don't you know?

I stroke the keys
And I bug my muse for story lines
Cookies and cokes and Facebook pokes
Keep me feelin' fine.
And there's always a hunk
And a beautiful dame to save my plot line
In my simple way
Guess you could say
I'm livin' in the big time.

I know I'll probably never make the Times bestseller list
I'll probably end up with carpel tunnel in my wrist.
I don't mind that stuff 'cause I've got Nook and Kindle too.
To feed my ego and show the world what I can do.

I know you're really living
With that contract to fulfill
So if you feel like talkin'
Friend, I've got a blog to fill.

I stroke the keys
And I plot my next novel all the time
Cookies and cokes and Facebook pokes
Keep me feelin' fine.
And there's always a hunk
And beautiful dame to save my plot line.
In my simple way
Guess you could say
I'm living in the big time.

I'm having the time of my life
With agents on my mind
But everything will be fine.
Today, I'll type faster than yesterday.
Someday everything will go my way,
I'm living in the big time.

And there's always a hunk
And beautiful dame to save my plot line.
In my simple way
Guess you could say
I'm living in the big time.

You can get more of my zaniness at Have Novel, Will Edit or on Facebook.

My Dear Muse

I felt this hard tap on my shoulder. When I glanced over, I saw my Muse standing there with her arms crossed telling me to get back to work on my book. I glared back and told her I couldn’t because I had to get some work done and get this blog written. She huffed loudly and threatened to leave me. Naturally, I pleaded with her to stay. Then a thought occurred to me.

Julie: “My most dear Muse, may I interview you, please?”

Erato looking askance: “Hmmm. Alright. But, make it quick. There are millions of authors I need to inspire.”

Julie: “Great! That’s a really cool lyre you have.”

Erato stroked the strings with a smile, “Thanks. Just for that, I’ll inspire you tomorrow.”

Julie brightens: “Awesome! So, there are nine of you?”

Erato nods: “Yes, we’re the goddesses of the arts and sciences.”

Julie: “Are all of you the goddesses of writing?”

Erato chuckles: “No. I’m in charge of Poetry about Love. Erato is erotic. Get it?”

Julie: “Uh huh.”

Erato: “Some say I invented the art of dancing because it inspires others to write about love.

Julie: “What about the other muses?”

Erato: “My sister Calliope is in charge of Epic Poetry and Euterpe loves inspiring Musicians.”

Julie: “Wait, I thought Apollo is the god of Music.”

Erato wagged a finger: “He is the god of Music itself. Euterpe gifts people with the talent of music and inspires them.”

Julie: “Ah! I see. Hmmm…Is giving talent and inspiration the reason all of you were created?”

Erato nods: “Not at first. Apollo told us that we're to help mortals to forget the evils the Titans had afflicted on the world and to praise the gods for their victory over them. Once we accomplished that, we migrated to helping you mortals forget your sorrows and cares in the world.”

Julie tapping her chin in thought: “How so?”

Erato gaped in surprise: “Don’t you get lost in another world when you read a great romance novel? Or go to a museum or become amused at a play?

Julie: “Okay.”

Erato: “When anyone is sad or sorrowful, usually Euterpe will pay them a visit and play some music to help them feel better.”

Julie: “Okay. Okay. I get it. You mentioned you helped people forget the evils the Titan’s afflicted on the world.”

Erato folds her arms with narrowed eyes: “That’s right.”

Julie: “It’s ironic isn’t it? You’re Mother is a Titan, Right?”

Erato: “Yes, she is.”

Julie: “A goddess of memory. Memnon…something.”

Erato: “Mnemosyne. Yes, she’s a Titan and the goddess of memory. It is ironic isn’t it?”

Julie: “Yes. I asked that.”

Erato: “No, you didn’t.”

Julie: “I did.”

Erato with her finger pointed at me: “You’re not arguing with me, are you?”

Julie with alarm in her eyes, “Heaven’s no. Wouldn’t dream of arguing with my Muse.”