Conversations With My Muse - Writing In My Head Edition

Image in Public Domain as a faithful reproduction
of a work of art in the public domain.

It’s been awhile since I shared one of my conversations with my muse. Not that my demanding, loud-mouthed muse has been quiet. No, actually she’s been very vocal, and her ideas have kept me busy writing. In fact, sometimes she demands so much attention that it’s hard to think about anything except what she’s yelling in my ear.

As some of you may know, my alter ego is a tax accountant. January through April is tax season, a time of the year I call hell on earth. Okay, that might be a bit of an exaggeration, but not much. Stress levels during this time of year can get very high.

Wait! Stay with me. I’m not going to bore you with tax stuff. I promise. I’d rather not bore me with tax stuff, but the non-writing job supports my writing habit, so I immerse myself in tax stuff. This time of year, it’s hard to get all that tax stuff out of my head when I’m trying to write, and a writer has to have priorities.

After tax season ended last year, I tried to quit my part-time accounting job to write full time. I really tried, but the accounting boss man asked me nicely if I’d considered staying. The men and women I work with have become my extended family. I’ve developed a rapport with most of the clients I work with. I mourned losing my connections with them, because no matter how hard a person tries, connections get lost after a certain amount of time. So when the boss man asked nicely, I agreed to stay. Reluctantly.

My muse was furious.

Last April, our conversation went something like this:

Muse: What are you doing? Yells in my ear while I’m completing a Form 1040 (To the left you can view one of these obnoxious creations.)

Me: Jumps out of skin (figuratively if not literally). Go away. I’m working. Muttering under my breath while I glance around cubicle world to see if anyone notices me talking to my invisible muse. My co-workers already think I’m nuts.

Muse: You should be working on something important, like your manuscript. You’ll never get it finished this way.

Me: Gritting my teeth and growling my answer. I’m working on it. Besides, what I’m doing here is important.

Muse: Uttering in an incredulous voice. You can’t work on your manuscript here.

Me: I can so work on it here. Just because I’m not typing doesn’t mean I’m not organizing my next chapter in my head.

Muse: Hogwash. You need to be in your writing environment to write. She’s so wrong. I can write anywhere. Most of my writing is done in my head before I even start typing. She knows that. What’s her problem?

Muse: I have an idea…

Me: Rolls eyes. You’ve given me enough ideas to keep me writing for ten years. I don’t need any more. Let me finish the ones I’m already working on.

Muse: Are you really sending me away? Pouting. Not a pretty sight, I guarantee.

Me: Just until I finish working on this tax return. Then, you can help me think about how I’m going to get my character out of that sticky situation I left her in.

Muse: Picking at her fingernails. It’s not nice to leave a heroine with a villain’s fingers around her neck. You should have finished that scene before you came to work. I told you what to write.

Me: Huffing. I was already late for work this morning. If I’d finished the scene… Never mind. You have no sympathy.

Muse: So when are you going to quit this job and come back to work?

Me: Oh, please. Go away.

And she did for a long, long time. The ungrateful wench left me on my own for a few months. Thankfully, she’d left me with plenty of ideas to work with. I just had to come up with the details on my own. I finished the manuscript I was working on and released it in April 2015. I was still rolling with ideas, so I wrote the follow-up book and released it in July 2015. After that, I needed her help badly. I didn’t release the next book in the series until December 2015.

She came back, loaded with ideas and snarkier than ever. Yeah, I kind of missed her.

Characters Acting Badly and #MyMuse That Contributes to Their Delinquency

Sometimes the life of a full time writer can be…well, lonely. I mean, when I’m writing, the only company I have are my characters. If they started talking to me, I mean verbally, I think I’d freak.

My muse whispers in my ear in the middle of the night, but that’s something else entirely. There is no accounting for what she might say or do. If you doubt it, check out these posts.

http://denisemoncrief.blogspot.com/2013/03/conversation-with-mymuse-chocolate.html

http://denisemoncrief.blogspot.com/2013/01/conversations-with-my-muse-duct-tape.html

http://denisemoncrief.blogspot.com/2012/07/conversations-with-mymuse-ghost-edition.html

http://denisemoncrief.blogspot.com/2012/10/conversations-with-my-muse-accounting.html

Here is what I think my muse might look like…

Picture in public domain. Courtesy wiki commons.

Sometimes my characters are sort of like real people, you know. Today one of them just wouldn’t cooperate with me. I wanted her to do one thing and she hauled off and did another. This one has a mind of her own. I gave her a good talking to but she wouldn’t listen. Had to have it her way. It amuses me for a while to argue with them, but it’s not the same as talking with a living, breathing individual. I think she forgets she’s fictional. Am I going to have to restrain her?

Maybe this device would work…

Drawing in public domain. Courtesy wiki commons.

Do you think that would keep her in line? I mean, my characters should be careful not to annoy me. I just bought this coffee mug…

 

Mug can be purchased at cafepress.com

This mug means what I say and says what I mean, you know what I mean? I’ve done some nasty things to my characters. I even impaled one bad guy on a dead tree before it caught on fire and fell over the side of cliff into a deep gorge. My characters should quiver in fear of my fast tapping fingers. And my muse should stop leading them down the path toward destruction. When I tell my heroine to call my hero and make up with him, that's exactly what she should do!

Conversation With #MyMuse - Chocolate Seduction Edition

Image in Public Domain as a faithful reproduction
of a work of art in the public domain.

I’m not gonna lie, my muse has been good to me lately. I’ve started a new Work In Progress, and she has practically written the story for me. Sometimes I love her.

Then, there’s those other times when she’s being, shall we say, ornery. There have been a few occasions where no amount of pleading, cajoling, or threatening with lawsuits can motivate her to give up her ideas. Dang her, anyway.

I was chatting with my writer’s group yesterday and the subject of recalcitrant muses came up. Thank God I’m not the only writer who has a stubborn muse. I don’t feel so alone in the world.

So let’s just say I suggested seducing…um, enticing…or maybe luring her out of hiding…with chocolate. This has worked for me before.

This is how the conversation went:

Frustrated Writer (That’s me): Musth? * munch, munch * Where are ya musth?

Muse: * peeks head around corner * What? I can’t understand you. * eyes FW with suspicion * What’s that in your mouth?

FW: * hides wrapper behind back * Nothum…

Muse: Whadaya mean nothing? I can see the wrapper. Are you… Yes, you’re eating chocolate. And you weren’t going to share, were you?

FW: I domth know wha ya mean. * wipes mouth with back of sleeve *

Muse: Can I have a bite?

FW: Don’t be silly. Muses can’t eat.

Muse: The heck they can’t. Don’t be selfish and share your chocolate.

FW: * tilts head sideways * If I give you some chocolate, will you help me finish Chapter Three?

Muse: * snorts * I told you how to write that chapter already. But noooo…. You wouldn’t listen to my advice. You had to give your heroine a colon cleanse. What made you think her hero would want to hear about her experience? Erase the chapter and start over.

FW: Okay. You’re right, but how? Where do I go with it? Help me.

Muse: Give up the chocolate.

FW: * acts reluctant to hand it over, but smiles inwardly * Now, about Chapter Three…

Conversations With My Muse (Accounting is Boring Edition) - 0006

Image in Public Domain as a faithful reproduction
of a work of art in the Public Domain.

So I’m in my office at work trying to figure out which one of our members’ dues hasn’t been remitted to national yet when my muse interrupts my train of thought.

Muse: Pssst…Writer person….

Me: * Doesn’t bother to hide irritation. * What?

Muse: So I was thinking—

Me: Not now. Can’t you see I’m busy? I have a lot of work to do.

Muse: But listen to this—

Me: Hold up! You’ve been silent for days, weeks no less, and you want to whisper in my ear now?

Muse: You need to work on your writing, girl. You’ve been slacking. And besides, accounting is boring! So there was this the guy and this girl and she’s been dead for three years, but she wakes up in this other woman’s body—”

Me: Wrote it already.

Muse: What?

Me: Released that story last month. Don’t you have anything better?

Muse: So there was this guy, this gal, and this ghost—

Me: Released that yesterday. You’ve been off your game lately.

Muse: You’ve been ignoring me.

Me: I’ve been working—

Muse: Working smirking. Accounting is sooo boring.

Me: Well, yeah. Accounting is boring. You said that already. Why do you think I write? I gotta have some excitement in my otherwise mundane life, don’t I? And how do you think I’m able to support your habit?

Muse: Point taken…. Hey, you make me sound like an addict or something.

Me: From your own subtle whisper to my ear.

Muse: * Huffs * Well then, I can tell you this later.

Me: Oh, no. You’ve already interrupted me, so what is it?

Muse: Never mind. Go back to your numbers and your calculator and your Excel spreadsheets and your QuickBooks and your—

Me: * Leaning back in my chair and looking all smug * You sound bitter.

* Silence *

Me: Muse?

* More silence *

Me: Well, you don’t have to be that way about it!

Muse: So there’s this guy and this gal and she has problems with other people’s memories—

Me: Current work in progress. If you’re going to harass me, you need to do better than that.

Muse: So if a man wanted to disappear, what better time to do it than after a catastrophe.

Me: Okay, I’m listening.

Muse: So there’s this woman who lost her husband in 911. She goes on vacation and…

Conversations With #MyMuse (Minecraft Edition) - 0005

Image in Public Domain as a faithful reproduction
of a work of art in the Public Domain.

My muse woke me up last night…Well, actually it was my husband’s snoring, but that’s beside the point. While I was attempting to lull myself back to lullaby land, my muse started jabbing an insistent finger into my psyche.

Muse: What are you doing? Don’t go back to sleep. There’s work to do.

Me: Wha-?

Muse: Okay, so you rejected my last idea, but I have a terrifical, splentastic, awesomelicious good one for you this time! Hey! Wake up.

Me: * heavy breathing *

Muse: So you know how you’ve been doing all that stuff on Minecraft lately—

Me: * head pops up * Minecraft?

Muse: Yep, thought that would get your attention. So…there’s this girl and this guy—

Me: * mutters * That plot’s been done to death. Leave me alone. I have to have my beauty sleep.

Muse: No, no. This is new. This is a different twist. This is—

Me: Muse! Shut up! I need sleep.

Muse: What? So you will have enough oomph to play more Minecraft?

Me: * grabs computer, which is conveniently by bed * Okay, what’s the idea? Give it to me so I can go back to sleep.

Muse: * blah, blah, blah * (Did you really think I was going to tell you my story idea? No!) * faint sounds of snoring *

Me: Muse? Muse? Oh well, I’m awake now. Might as well play Minecraft!

Note from tired author: Writers (or anyone else) never, ever begin a new world on Minecraft if you’ve got editing to do. Never, ever! Never! Today, (it’s 9:13 am CST) I will edit and write and edit and write… And that’s my story and I’m sticking to it!

Anybody else out there addicted to Minecraft? Please tell me I’m not alone…pretty please.

Conversations With #MyMuse (Ghost Edition) - 0004

Image in Public Domain as a faithful reproduction
of a work of art in the Public Domain.

Okay, just right off the top let me say I don’t believe in ghosts. Unequivocally. Without hesitation. So why have ghosts been on my mind the last few weeks? I’ve been watching a lot of Ghost Hunters International on Netflix lately, and I’ve been reading Karen White’s Tradd Street series. I just finished The Girl on Legare Street and look forward to reading The Strangers on Montagu Street. While I was in Colorado, I saw three ghost towns and posted some pictures here.

Because of all this “ghostly” activity, my muse keeps whispering in my ear, distracting me with a bunch of what if scenarios. Now I must write.

But first a blog post…

I wrote a ghost story not long ago that Still Moments is publishing in the October anthology, Haunted Shadows. Sometimes I write a story and at the end I want to know what happens to my hero and heroine next. That was the case with Bo and Liza from Ghost in the Garden. Bo’s business is called Bo’s Paranormal Extermination Service. With that set up already in place, I keep hatching sequels to their story.

Ghost in the Garden had flying books and strange noises. The Girl on Legare Street had full-bodied apparitions and spiteful spirit beings that would choke the main character. The ghost towns in Colorado? Yep, all three of them were sleepy, peaceful, abandoned mountain towns. I didn’t hear a single disembodied voice. No need for a digital recorder to catch the electronic voice phenomena. There wasn’t any.

Whether you believe in ghosts or not, Ghost Hunters is a fascinating show. The producers go to a lot of trouble to prove the paranormal. Just far enough, but not too far to suspend disbelief for the less than ambitious debunker…or to lose the entertainment value of a reality show. I’ve read a lot of posts and watched a lot of YouTube videos about debunking the show’s claims of documenting paranormal activity. After all those episodes, you’d think they would have captured more than grainy quality pictures of abnormalities or distorted recordings of sounds that might be voices. Why does their camera crew point their cameras at the investigators instead of the space being investigated? You’d think the camera crew would have caught something after years of traipsing around the world filming haunted mansions, prisons, hotels, and insane asylums etc. Despite the questionable, easily dismissed methods of the investigators, the show is still fun to watch.

Real life is so much different than fiction. On GHI the only ghostly experiences the investigators encounter are the occasional weird shadow zipping from left to right and frequent generously interpreted “voices” on digital recordings. Even in the paranormal television series the encounters are less than obvious. In Karen White’s books, the ghosts are so real the main character couldn’t avoid them if she tried…and she did try. White’s ghost stories are a fun read, but I don’t take any of the ghostly occurrences seriously. There appears to be a fine line between the seriousness of a movie like Ghost and the blatant spoofs of a movie like Ghost Busters. At what point does the reader/viewer start viewing the plot as humor rather than drama?

So what is the appeal of the paranormal and why am I so inclined to write about it? Maybe it’s the fascination of peeking behind the curtain that veils the visible realm. Capturing a glimpse of the spiritual realm. Going beyond what’s considered normal into the paranormal.

Or maybe I just like getting chill bumps…

So…do you believe in ghosts?

Conversations With #MyMuse - 0003

Image in Public Domain as a faithful reproduction
of a work of art in the Public Domain.

So my muse has been coy lately. Teasing me with tidbits of ideas, but never quite whispering a full premise in my ear.

Muse: "Oh, look at that. Wouldn't it be fun to write about that?"

Me: "Yeah, muse. What a great idea! What if it was late one night and there was a--?"

Muse: "Wait! Forget about that. Look at that woman. Don't you think her story is interesting? Bet you could write a whole book on that."

*Writer has an ooh-shiny moment.*

Me: "Oh, this is good. This is great. The heroine could say, 'But I have to leave you, Bob.' And Bob could say--"

Muse: "You need to write a Christmas story...soon. Time's running out. What with submitting and editing and whatnot. You gotta get 'er done, girl."

Me: "A Christmas story! Yeah. Yeah. I could write about this woman who has uptight friends and they want her to get this guy to do this thing...and candlelight."

Muse: "Hold up! Writer, where do you get those ideas from? I know it ain't from me, girl. You been hanging out with another muse? Are you cheating on me?"

Me: "What? No! I swear I've been faithful to only you, Muse."

*Writer narrows eyes at manipulative muse.*

Me: "Is that why your ideas have been lame lately? Are you holding back because you think I'm cheating? That's...that's...that's just mean. I oughta--"

Muse: "Whoa, writer. Would ya look at that?"

*Writer turns attention toward ooh shiny object while Muse slips away.*


MyMuse Update 5/9/12

My muse and I had a come to Jesus meeting this morning on the way to work. Muse whispered three premises complete with plotline in my ear. I shall be busy this week.

Conversations With #MyMuse - 0002

Don't Hide


Is it getting a little crowded in there

why won’t you come out and play

don’t hide your pretty words from me

I need you to murmur motion and color

and light and shadow and perception

I need you to whisper depth and resonance

and space and texture and substance

see that

hear that
smell that

taste that

feel that

Don’t hide your pretty words from me

Conversations With #MyMuse - 0001

An Ode to My Muse

Where do the words come from

That express my life

My hope

The essence of me

That my soul spits out

Not sensible but making

oh so much sense

Regrets

Maybe

Not so much as joy and

Fleeting moments of happiness

Wrapped up in relationships and

Memories and

I don't want my life to be over

I want to live for the now

And for the future

And I want my words to flow

To tell stories of my essence

To betray the existence of my soul

With reckless abandon

Where do the words go

When they leave my mind

Do they frolic and

Dance

And cavort with intent

So that a piece of me

Makes oh so much

Sense to another

I wrote this in honor of my muse, who sometimes pushes nonsense through my fingertips…and hopefully, sometimes whispers in my ear a few things that are worth pondering.

Please read more at www.withrealtoads.blogspot.com