Muse (reluctantly putting in an appearance): You again?
Writer: You’re my muse, so who else? And before you ask, yes, I’m having trouble.
Muse: I wasn’t going to ask. Laddie, you are trouble.
Writer: So you’re Scottish now?
Muse: Just an expression, a whim, you know—creative license. You should try it sometime.
Writer: Very funny. I need some inspiration.
Muse: You need a lot more than that. Besides, inspiration is overrated. Yes, you’ve managed the “butt in chair, blank screen” part of the work ethic, but so far you’ve left out the “putting one word after another” part.
Writer: This, I know. But what words?
Muse: If I knew that, I’d be the writer. Your problem is you’re desultory.
Writer: Maybe right now…
Muse: Luke warm? Half-hearted? You’re failing to understand the nuances of the word and all the synonyms in the world don’t do it justice. The full meaning is more along the lines of “without a purpose, a plan, or enthusiasm.”
Writer: Ouch…but accurate.
Muse: The truth often hurts. Why do you think so many people—not to mention politicians—try to hide it?
Writer: It’s not always the truth.
Muse: No, but it always is at the start. You begin weak and finish strong. You generate a purpose, a plan, and then enthusiasm, but not until the first several words are written. Most writers I know start off strong, inspired, and enthusiastic then get worn down. They’re desultory toward the end, not the beginning. You’re opposite. It’s a little weird, to tell the truth again.
Writer: Just how many other writers do you know?
Muse: Neither here nor there. And a lady never inspires and tells.
Writer: So you’re saying?
Muse (sighs): Put some words down, idiot. Doesn’t matter what they are, since you’ll change them once you figure out what you’re doing. The magic won’t happen until then. Inspiration, for what it’s worth, is a lot more important during the process than at the start.
Writer: I wouldn’t mind a little inspiration at the start.
Muse (sighs again, a little disgusted): Listen, twerp. You almost always know what you want to do from the beginning, in a general way, but not how. You hesitate because of uncertainty and fear that this time you won’t be able to pull it off, doesn’t matter how bloody many times you’ve been in the same place feeling the same thing. Once you get going, a fuller and more focused purpose, plan, and enthusiasm all fall into line. I would have thought at the very least you’d have picked up a clue about that by now.
Writer: You said it yourself—I’m a little slow out of the blocks.
Muse: Slow? By the starting gun you haven’t even gotten your shoelaces tied. Words. Now.
Writer: Okay. “It was a dark and stormy night.”
Muse: Don’t make me hurt you.
Writer: You said it didn’t matter what they were.
Muse: Well, I lied. Call it creative license.