Has anyone seen my moos - sorry - muse? You know that certain something that exists within and supplies you with unending inspiration for writing. I think I had one. It wasn't like a beautiful woman in a floaty bedsheet strumming a lyre or anything. It was more like an angel on my shoulder whispering ideas and humming musical words to me. Or a voice in my head. Something other but yet a part of me. I would see something ordinary and Moos would show me another angle. She constantly shifted my perspective and showed me the surprising and the funny. When I sat on my bed and stared into space, conversations and characters crept into my consciousness - images and colours, journeys and conclusions - I was never bored.
Recently when I sit down and stare into space I find I'm just staring into space. Then I think about what time it is and what I should be doing now.
I've been timetabled.
My Moos got bored and went on holiday. I sure hope she sends me a postcard soon.
8 comments:
Ah, so that's who I've been serving champagne to out on my patio. I have to tell you, that moos of yours doesn't half drink a lot! And only the best stuff. I honestly can't afford for her to stay.
I'll pass on the message that you're really missing her and hopefully she'll return home - where she belongs. Besides, I think she's pissing off my moos, who's determined to confuzz me at every turn - it's spite and jealousy, I'm sure.
And now you know why we're writers...
Like Arnie, Moos will be back, having mootated...
AHA! That explains why I haven't been drinking a lot recently - and here was me thinking it was the cost of wine! Vanilla, three glasses of Sauvignon Blanc and she starts to slur and reveal far too much about herself - which is ackshully me - so yes pack her back to me, the dirty Stop-out! And apologies for any friction caused in your fiction department.
Oh Whirl you never cease to cause amoosement. Let's hope she comes back Mootivated eh? Although if she is languishing by the pool in South Africa drinking bubbly I fear she may return…um…fragile!
Hopefully after her sabbatical, your moos will return refreshed and full of brilliant ideas!!
I need a moos. Where do you get one?
Ah MIS if only I knew. She just showed up one day and I really never thought she'd run out on me - at least not without the aid of medication.
My muse always strikes at 3AM when I get up to pee or am wakened from some fantastic Harlequin romance dream by a kidling needing to "seep wif" me.
Also my muse tends to surface after having read Margaret Atwood or Tamora Pierce or - well, really any YA fantasy. Maybe your moos is trying (in a very very roundabout way) to direct you to read a certain thing.
Or maybe she's just having an affair with absolute's darkroom.
Oh, yeah, mine's been on holiday every once in a while. It's the pits when that happens. Feels like losing a mental limb.
On the other hand, whne it comes back home, you feel a jolt of creative energy and can look at the work you've done with very fresh eyes. There's that!
That, and I don't think you can force the little pistol back home, with begging or with anything else.
I usually type scribbled notes up, or reread a favorite section that I wrote, to get my Moos to come back home and stay with me for a while.
Aerin my youngest doesn't even bother to ask - he just climbs in between us and brings his own quilt with him. The first Hubby and I know about it is the awful shoulder pain and the fact that we're hanging out of bed!
I am a very heavy sleeper. Moos will have to be very demanding to wake me up!
Ah Robin I do feel rather bereft. Sorry about not getting around to doing the voice thingy. I think my new-found working status is paying merry hell with my time these days. I'm sure it's just a matter of adjustment. That's also probably why Moos took off.
Good tip about writing up scribbled notes though. I will definitely try that one!
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