Muse and Writer Dialogues #5

FADE IN

 A room that passes for an office. There are bookshelves on one wall, a motley assortment of carvings, signed storyboards, and framed magazine covers on the free wall space. On the far wall is a medieval-style heraldic wall display of a cockatrice and a banner in bad Latin “Pullus non Est.”  Horizontal files sit beneath the window , and on top of those a free-standing rack holding Japanese swords. The computer desk is on the wall nearest the door, facing away from the window. Beside that is a printer on a stand. It’s a bit dusty.

Enter the Muse. Her appearance tends to change every now and then, but mostly she appears as a Greek goddess type in a flowing chiton. At the moment she is, to put it mildly, NOT HAPPY. She looms over the Writer who is sitting at his desk, staring at the computer screen.

MUSE: Would you  mind telling me what the hell you’re doing?

WRITER: What does it look like?

MUSE: Well, it LOOKS like you’re writing. But I know you aren’t.

WRITER: How do you know that?

MUSE: I’m a figment of your imagination. How could I NOT know?

WRITER(not taking his eyes off the screen): Good Point. Continue reading

Muse and Writer Dialogues #4

FADE IN

 A room that passes for an office. There are bookshelves on one wall, a motley assortment of carvings, signed storyboards, and framed magazine covers on the free wall space. On the far wall is a medieval-style heraldic wall display of a cockatrice and a banner in bad Latin “Pullus non Est.”  Horizontal files sit beneath the window , and on top of those a free-standing rack holding Japanese swords. The computer desk is on the wall nearest the door, facing away from the window. Beside that is a printer on a stand. It’s a bit dusty.

Enter the Muse. Her appearance keeps morphing from a classical Greek goddess to something resembling a biker chick with long black hair, silver nostril ring and tats covering both arms. She has a sword in one hand and a crossbow in the other, and appears to be “Vogueing.” The Writer is sitting at his desk, looking thoroughly confused.

WRITER: What are you doing?

MUSE: My job.

WRITER: Which is?

MUSE: To inspire you, of course. I am a personified ideal of the act of inspiration. How am I doing?

WRITER: Depends. If  you’re trying to get my attention, it’s working. I just can’t figure out what it’s all for. So I’ll repeat—what are you doing?

MUSE: Posing for the eventual book cover. Most of those show an armed hottie in a ¾ turn rear view. How’s this? Continue reading

Muse and Writer Dialogues #3

FADE IN

A room that passes for an office. There are bookshelves on one wall, a motley assortment of carvings, signed storyboards, and framed magazine covers on the free wall space. On the far wall is a medieval-style heraldic display of a cockatrice with a motto in bad Latin that reads “Pullus non Est.” Horizontal files sit beneath the window , and on top of those a free-standing rack holds three Japanese swords. The computer desk is on the wall nearest the door, facing away from the window. Beside that is a printer on a stand. In the base of that is a PS3 and an Xbox on a lower shelf. Neither is in use.

Enter the WRITER, who finds the MUSE sitting in a rocking chair staring at what looks like a smartphone. He’s a slob. She looks like a statuesque Greek goddess most of the time, but her appearance keeps changing.

WRITER: What are you doing?
MUSE: What does it look like? I’m playing “Angry Birds.” Not that you care. What do you want?
WRITER: You have to ask, after that stunt you pulled?

Continue reading