Advice from a
Sardonic wise Muse
Diana Peach from Myths of the Mirror has kindly opened her blog to guests with a challenge to write a short story about your muse. Here’s mine:
“It’s your turn.”
I nod absently and continue staring at the board as though the answer is going to appear any time and if I look away for even a millisecond it’ll be gone forever. “I know, just give me a minute, will you?”
“A minute wouldn’t be bad. You’ve been in this exact same place for days now. How do you expect to get anywhere by staring into space?”
He doesn’t understand. It’s not that easy to catch the right word, line, paragraph before it disappears into the ether. “Brilliance takes time,” I tell him.
He snorts. “Pardon me, I didn’t realize you had such high aspirations. Still, you’re not get any younger–“
“Hey,” I protest, glaring at him. “For a muse, you’re not very nice.”
He shrugs, unimpressed. “I’m not here to pander to your delicate writer’s psyche, I’m merely stating the facts.”
“Well, don’t bother. I know I haven’t been writing the way I should be- I have writer’s block.” There, I said it. Even pushing the thought out there lightened the weight on my shoulders. I sat back, kind of proud of myself.
“Hogwash,” he muttered. “There’s a classic example of a foolish excuse, if I ever heard one.”
“I wonder if anyone would notice if I faded away?” I mused. “Sometimes I feel as though no one cares whether I write another word, or not.”
“Wow, you’ve got it bad,” he said, tipping my knight over. “Feeling sorry for yourself isn’t going to solve your problems. You have to dig a little deeper. Work that angst into the story, give it heart and soul. You’ll see, it will resonate with your readers.
Everyone is going through tough times right now. You don’t have the monopoly on anxiety. What you do have, is the gift of writing. You can change peoples’ lives with your books. Allow them to escape their worries, to laugh, love, and even cry for a few precious hours of reading time. It’s all in your hands- use it wisely.”
With that, he rose and left the room, leaving me to ponder his message. I hated to admit it, but he was right. The only thing stopping me was myself.
I set the chessboard aside and opened my laptop. Time to dig a little deeper.