Conversations with my Muse

Author Name: DropDeadDiva | Source: pinoyliterotica.com

I continued to stare at the blank Microsoft document on my laptop screen.  I have been staring at it for a long time now.  I am stumped.  I do not know what else to write or how to start or where to start.

“This is frustrating!”  I almost screamed to an empty room when a sudden radiance filled my room.  I squinted my eyes and noted a figure – a him.

“God?”  I asked.

“Nope.”

I noted the all-white get up and then said, “My guardian angel?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?  Do I look like a guardian angel to you?  Look, no feather wings!”  He made a half turn so I could see that he had a no wings on his back.

I raised an eyebrow and noted the absence of a wand.  “I doubt you are my fairy godmother.”

“Well, I wanted to be one, but I failed the flight test and my poof didn’t sound like a poof at all but a loud BANG!  They suggested I seek other options.”  He said wistfully.

“A male fairy godmother?”

“Oh don’t be judgmental!  It is an in-thing nowadays, you know.”

“I think I had too much coffee…  I’m beginning to imagine things.”  I said as I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply.  I flicked my eyes open and he’s still there.

“Still think you’re imagining me?”

“Who are you?”

“I’m your muse.”

“Muse?”

“Yes, muse.  A guiding spirit.  A source of inspiration.”  When he noted that I didn’t look so convinced, he added “I know I don’t look the part, but I should let you know that I have inspired a lot of great writers!”

“And you are my muse?”

“Why do you think that is so hard to believe?  You wrote Back to Black – I supplied the elevator scene.  It’s one of your best works, isn’t it?  I believe you got praises for that.”

“So that was all you?”

“Oh no sweetie… It is all you.  I just guide you in the right direction.  I help writers like you.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead.”

“Why did I choose erotica?”

“Oh, I didn’t have any part with that my dear.  It was your own choice.  You wanted to write again and you chose that field so to speak.”

I shrugged.  “Just wanted to know what it would be like and if I would be able to do it.”

“What is it that you always keep saying?  You have an overactive mind?  And it’s not as if you have a lot of experience because quite frankly I don’t think you do.  And for someone who hasn’t had any lately, you write good sex scenes.”

“Hah!  Was that an insult?”

He laughed.  “Oh no, my dear.  That was just a comment.  Hmmnnn… You are short-tempered!  Is it the time of the month again?  Are you ovulating?”

I laughed.  I must be crazy.  I had to remember what I ate earlier.  Or it could be something I drank too.  Is this food poisoning? Are hallucinations part of the symptoms of food poisoning?

“Seriously, DDD… May I call you DDD?  That’s what your readers call you, right?  Seriously DDD, why the self-preservation?  What is up with that?  It’s not as if you are saving yourself for someone because you don’t have anyone in your life right now!”

“But what about —” I started to say but my muse cut me off.

“You know he doesn’t count.  Are you sure he even likes you?”

“He said —”

“Yeah.  Yeah.  I know what you are going to say.  You had a moment or two and you felt a connection.  And no, he still doesn’t count.”

“Would getting laid make me write better?”

“Maybe.  If not, it will make you less bitchy.  Heed my advice.”

I hardly was able to finish a reply when the radiance burst (again) and dissipated.

Damn! I need sleep.