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Notes From an Amateur Writer #49

This Blog series is an exercise in creative writing. Sometimes expressed in short story form, sometimes as a journal, or just my thoughts written down. It is a nursery of sorts for the stories that are on their way, or yet to be written.

This is post 19 in @dragosroua's January 30 day writing challenge.

Conversation With My Multiple Selves

"You have to finish the story. You'll mess up your schedule if you don't. You know – your neat, orderly schedule. The one that your inner OCD gremlin agrees with." My Muse's dark side was remonstrating with me. She appeared genuinely angry. Trying to push me on, like an athletic coach. Go further, go harder, don't stop. Except I had to stop. I was exhausted.

I had been feeling run down. Nothing serious. But I had a sense of fatigue that I couldn't shake. I tried sleeping it off, but no, it still persisted. So I just had to relax and breath deeply, and accept the current reality. I have been getting better at accepting the current reality as it occurs. Not always easy. But it has helped lower stress levels. Stress and I seem to have a healthier working relationship than we once did. He doesn't slap me around quite as hard these days. But I still need to keep an eye on him.

As for my Muse having a dark side, well that was news to me. I thought there was only the one of her. Or at least I thought there was the one side to her personality. But then I thought the same about myself once upon a time. So I have been wrong before. But man, she was pushing me, and I couldn't complete the task given to me. It wasn't happening. It wasn't going to happen either. It was time to rest.

"I know about the schedule. That was my own predetermined construct. Nobody is forcing that issue upon me."

She looked at me aghast. Eyes unblinking for too long a period of time to be natural. I think I may have said the wrong thing.

She eventually closed her eyes and opened her mouth. "You need to write. You need to publish. There is work to be done." Out came more demands. This wasn't going to be easy.

"I do write. I write everyday. I write perhaps in the vicinity of a thousand words everyday. Sometimes more. And I read – a lot. But now I need to slow down. I give myself permission to do that. And that's final." Am I allowed to speak to the drill sergeant in such a manner? I hope I am not about to enter a world of pain.

"You disappoint me."

Oh god, my Muse's dark side sounds like my mother. How did that happen? And Freud, you can stay away – no one asked for your opinion.

"Don't worry about her. Just rest up and relax for a bit."

Wait, who was that? My mother has a good side too. After all these years, how did I not know this?

"Who are you?" The words left my mouth tentatively. The little speck of sense that had still existed was drying up rapidly.

"I am the good side of your Muse."

"So there are two of you?"

"No, just the one."

I turned to look at those present, and I was sure I could see two of them in front of me. I pointed each of them out, and looked back to the 'good' Muse. She smiled back at me, but said nothing.

"So where were you then, whilst I was getting lambasted?"

"Sorry I was held up."

"Doing what?"

"Rearranging your writing schedule and material so you could rest up. You're good to go now. I found some other material you can use to keep the challenge going. Just add some blurb to it, and away you go. You'll be right."

"So you don't mind?"

"I don't. Not at all. But she on the other hand." She stopped mid-sentence and looked over to her compatriot. They seemed to be having a silent conversation, and I wasn't invited to be a part of it. They were communicating in a language devoid of sound. But something seemed to be relayed.

"Well I'll leave you two to sort out your differences. I'm going to sleep."

"I'll wake you at zero six hundred hours. We have writing to do." My ~~drill sergeant~~ Muse's dark half looked straight at me. But I saw a glimmer, a quick spurt of light. A slight smile trying to enter in.

"Be careful or he'll write a story about you," my Muse's more gentle side said, speaking directly to her twin.

"Thanks for the idea," I said. I meant it. I could actually use that.

They both turned to me in unison. "We're your Muse, that's what we do."

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