Oh muse, call me. Collect if you have to.
I'm deep in yet another rewrite of the draft for the third Felix Gomez novel. I like to think I'm close to finishing but everytime I go over the manuscript, it's, "What is this mess? It's not even fit to wrap fish."
I thought we writers had a muse to help us out. Mine must have been outsourced to Asia because I can't understand a thing she says.
When I think of the muse, this is what I imagine she looks like (pre-outsourcing).
Actually, this is the painting "Circe Invidiosa
" by John Waterhouse
. The muse gazes across her bowl of magic water and dares me not to write crap. She better have a lot of magic in that bowl. I like to think that writing is tapping into the supernatural creative spirit. Mostly though, it's more like making sausage.
If you like quirky angst about writing, check out Caitlin Kittredge's
For all you creative types out there--writers, musicians, painters--how do you wrestle with the desire to make something great when your brain seems to fat finger everything?