Ode to a fickle Muse
The first few thousand words fly across the screen, no sweat, no hassle. 2,000 words down. I look across at my Muse, who gives me a mischievous wink.
My brain fills with a soliloquy for a dark Sci-fi that has been brewing for years. I dash down a few notes then back to Fantasy business. Now a knock at the door, more distractions threaten my calm. These distractions bring a puppy! PUPPPYYY!!!!!!
Visitors gone I’m back at the screen. Fingers fly… slower this time as the four-finger pecking begins to wear me down. 4,000 words and I’m going strong, though wishing I had the discipline to learn to touch type. New idea, plot for the upcoming games this weekend…. This……. Weekend….. oh gods…… my calm evaporates as I look at the weekend vanishing under a mound of gaudily dressed changeling’s, vampires and mages. I can skip Lost, I really can, more time to write… to write um….. what was I writing?
I look up again, my attention caught by a girlish giggle as my Muse vanishes out the door, eloping with a passing pizza boy, no doubt off to write his opus. Fickle bitch, I promise myself to knife her next time she passes, pin her to the keyboard and scrawl my words in her blood…. 5,000 words. Screw it I’m going to watch Breaking Bad.