My Muse

My muse arrived late.

Our appointment was for 7:00 a.m. sharp but she didn’t stagger in until well after noon and then she flopped on the couch and moaned, “I need chocolate chip ice cream.”

That was the last thing I wanted to hear.

Three weeks ago, I banished a pail of chocolate chip ice cream to the freezer in the garage. Admittedly, it was a cruel thing to do to something that I loved so much but it was not really me who did it, rather it was my diet.

Now the bucket was calling my name and apparently its plaintive cries had captured my muse.

“Absolutely not,” I told her, “I am sticking to my diet.”

Her reaction shocked me. She let out a wail and shook uncontrollably.

“It is only ice cream,” I told her.

“Noooo,” she cried, “it is not.  You are siding with HIM.”

“Who?”

“Discipline, he is my muse or was,” her lips quivered as she tried to continue, “until we broke up.”

“A muse had a muse?”

She struggled to speak through her tears.

“Tell me more,” I said, “because I am writing about you.”

“Why?”

“I mentioned you in a comment on the blog Myths in the Mirror and D. Wallace Peach (wonderful lady and fabulous writer) challenged me to write about you.”

Ohhhh,” she sobbed, breaking into a crying jag.  When she recovered, she confessed, “that was my guy she was writing about.”

“Wait a minute, you mean to tell me that Diana’s disciplinarian mercenary-muse-from-hell is your boyfriend?”

“Was my boyfriend.  We were a team.”

“A team?”

“I sparked flashes of brilliance among writers,” she said, pausing to wipe her eyes on her sleeve, “and he provided the discipline.”

“I don’t recall ever seeing him,” I said.

She shot me a scathing glance. “No kidding.”

I ignored her jab.

“But from what I read, the guy is a real hard-ass, a jerk.”

“Well,” she said, renewing her scathing glance, “that is precisely what some people require.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Anyone can have an idea,” she explained, “but it takes discipline to pull it off.”

I changed the subject.  “So what happened?”

“He…he….he… started a training website,” she wailed, “it’s all about food, fitness and clicks, clicks, clicks, and (sob) no inspiration whatsoever.  Now, we are done, it’s OVER.

I tried to console her.

“But you still have me” I told her, “we always worked well together and don’t sell yourself short, you bring much more than just a spark of creativity, sometimes I can see the entire shape of a story just from the first sentence that you provide.”

But she was inconsolable.  “He doesn’t need me anymore.”

“Good riddance,” I told her.

“And I need chocolate chip ice cream – like NOW!” she said.

I tried to protest.

The words, “remember my diet” struggled to form themselves in my mouth – but she shot a look that struck me like a bolt of summer lightening and suddenly the lust for chocolate chip ice cream became overwhelming.

Author: Almost Iowa

www.almostiowa.com

78 thoughts on “My Muse”

  1. Muses are overrated (don’t tell mine I said that).

    And chocolate ice cream only ever goes to one place–the butt. And is bloody hard to part company with (based on the experience of uh…a friend).

    Well, at the very least, your muse has helped you write a very fine piece :).

    1. My muse begs to differ about the overrated thing. She says people who feel that way rely on their muses too much. (Sorry if she comes off as a little catty, she is still very upset.)

      But she has a point. Too often we put off writing or don’t write up to our potential because “we are waiting for inspiration.” Inspiration is a gift. One should not wait around for gifts.

      [there, now that I defended you, will you please share the chocolate chip ice cream with me?]

      [No way.]

  2. Thanks Greg. What a fun and fanciful look at the manic muses who fuel of creativity or lack there of. I’m glad I wandered over from D’s site to walk on the wild side with you and miss creativity-wants-her-ice-cream diva-muse. Kudos, Brad

  3. Muse without discipline is the story of my life. He must have ditched my muse years ago, which would explain why my version of the Great American Novel remains unwritten. As for your muse…give her the ice cream. She deserves it!

    1. I let her finish the pail of chocolate chip ice cream and as soon as I did, I got an irresistible urge to buy three more pails. Keeping a muse in ice cream is expensive and a lot of work.

    1. Even though Diana and I have exposed Discipline for who he is, people still hang out with him. When will they ever learn? Gotta go, that ice cream is calling my name again.

  4. Very witty and amusing.
    My favourite bit…
    “and he provided the discipline.”
    “I don’t recall ever seeing him,” I said.
    She shot me a scathing glance. “No kidding.”

  5. A muse is so close to amuse with only one space making the difference. And in this essay, the space is definitely missing! I am feeling bereft as I’ve never had a muse, unless I count the turkeys that are now gathering in my back yard and look like they might attack me. Gotta run!

    1. I used to write in a cabin that I built in the woods and all around there were turkeys. I don’t know why it is that a bird not gifted with graceful flight – insists on flying. I used to hear them bouncing off the oak trees.. Whack…Bamm…SLAM Ouch!

  6. My muse is Talenti Gelati–Chocolate Salted Caramel, to be exact. I love how they pack it in those one-serving pint sizes, too……Me, my spoon and my Gelati. Anything else had better clear out.

  7. This reminds me of when I wrote about my right brain and my left brain fighting for control of my keyboard. Those inner people are tough to handle sometimes.

  8. I have a photography muse and a writing muse. The writing muse, always a bit of a wallflower and rarely all that inspired seems to have gone off in a jealous funk recently as I’ve been taking up with the photography muse more. Perhaps I need that discipline muse to prod me into coddling the writing muse a bit – I hear it likes chocolate chip ice cream too.

    1. You have a point, you and your photography muse are producing some great stuff…but don’t worry about your writing muse, she is more understanding than you think, if you would just spend more time with her…..but isn’t that always the case?

  9. I’ve never found Discipline to be trustworthy. I’ve long suspected that it circles back for the things we avoid. It might explain some of those weird looking charges on your credit card statement, not to mention some of the stuff in your shed.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s