Muse and Writer Dialogues – Continued

Curtain rises, to reveal The MUSE, dusting. Picture a tall and lithe Greek Goddess in a chiton dusting a library shelf with an old-fashioned feather duster. Not that she’s doing any actual work. It’s more of a symbolic gesture. WRITER enters, stage right.

WRITER: “What do you think you’re doing?”
MUSE: “Dusting. It’s a symbolic gesture. Don’t you read the stage directions?”
WRITER: “You know what I mean. I want to talk to you about that story you dropped on me Friday.”
MUSE: “What about it?”
WRITER: “What about it? The series was finished! What were you thinking,  inspiring a  new story in the series at this point?”
MUSE: “What part of ‘Muse’ don’t you understand?”
WRITER: “The story arc was complete! I put a lot of time and thought into that concluding episode.”
MUSE: “So what’s your problem? You know the story you wrote Friday has no time cues, so it fits into the continuity anywhere you want to put it.”
WRITER: “That’s not the point! This is the first time I’ve ever concluded a character’s story arc, for a series. I was rather proud of that.”
MUSE: “I’m a Muse, not a therapist. Don’t tell me your troubles. Though I will point out that you’re a writer, complaining about having a story to write. That’s just stupid.”
WRITER: “But I had it planned! I had told the character’s story! I was done!”
MUSE: “Oh, now I get it. You’re suffering under the delusion that you’re in charge.”
WRITER: “A writer should take charge of their career. I read that in a book somewhere.”
MUSE: “A book. Right. Written by?”
WRITER: “Ummm. Some writer?”
MUSE: “You make my point. Besides, am I telling you how to market? How to do readings or if? How to do signings or if? What venues a story fits best?”
WRITER: “Now that you mention it, I could use some help in that department.”
MUSE: “Again, what part of ‘Muse’ don’t you understand?”
WRITER: “I don’t understand anything, apparently.”
MUSE: “You understand that much, then. I call that progress.”
WRITER: “So what’s the symbolic significance of you dusting my shelves?”
MUSE: “Something neglected has been refreshed, brought to good order. Think about it.”
WRITER: “Oh.”
MUSE: “Honestly, what would you do without me?”
WRITER: “Damned if I know.”
MUSE: “That’s right. Now fetch me a new duster. This one’s got dust on it.”

Advertisements