Gayle Carline
Musings
unpublished
    "A writer writes every day," exhorted the lecturer. "You cannot wait upon 'the muse'. A surgeon does not wait for divine inspiration before operating."
     It sounds so logical, so true, and I return home from my "Novel Writing" seminar vowing to put it into practice. For the first few days, I write dutifully. If I am stuck on one story, I open another file and start another, or I edit a third. If I am truly mired down, I write in my journal about my day's events. I try. But it's just so much busywork without my muse, and sooner or later I am reduced to playing Solitaire while I wait for his arrival.
     My muse is not a fair-haired nymph stroking a lyre and cooing magical words for my private use. I am not soothed and flattered by some fairy godmother encouraging me to reach for the literary stars. My muse is not a muse at all, but a demon. He is as unmerciful as Lucifer, a horned devil with eyes like burning embers. With one hand he shovels paragraphs and dialogue into my brain and with the other he goads me with an electric prod. I cannot type fast enough to keep up with him. He pushes me forward like a rider spurring his steed until my literary lungs rupture and I fall silent. And then he gets up and finds another mount, leaving me with an unfinished story. When he does return, it's with a completely different idea that is just as pressing. It would seem that my muse is a demon with Attention Deficit Disorder.
     While waiting for his return, I meander through my half-baked tales and try to complete them, but the new words look dull, and a little ashamed to be in the same story with such glowing paragraphs. They lack the fire of his brand, the brilliant shine from the sweat of his creative brow. The latter part of the story does not crackle with enthusiasm, it fizzles with boredom. I lose faith in my ability to pair verbs with nouns and start thinking about another career. After practicing, "Would you like fries with that?" a few times in the mirror, I return to the computer to try again.
     I've been thinking of advertising for another muse drive me to completion. I suppose I can't fire Mr. ADD-Demon, but I really need someone to help me finish what he starts.
     "Wanted: part-time muse. Must be able to modify and complete work started by principal muse. Hours flexible, but author prefers evenings. Ability to focus a must. Could lead to a full-time position."
     Maybe I'll get a sweet tempered muse to coo at me. A muse who'll kick that demon's butt.
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