My Muse. Who Is She?


What does my muse look like?  A lot like me, but much younger; late twenties, perhaps early thirties.  She’s tall and lean with long flowing dark hair that is crazy-wild.  Her eyes are full of fire and attitude.  You wouldn’t mess with this girl.  But who IS she exactly?  

Sometimes, she’s right there on my shoulder, whispering delightfully witty prose into my ear.  Other times, she’s stomping around the room, steam coming from her ears as she rants and raves about the injustices in her life.  She can weep like a little girl with her first crush or spew sensual lines of love.

My muse also has an “I don’t give a sh*t” attitude sometimes.  At these times, what ends up on the screen is not worth the effort it took to type it.

There are times when my muse is exhausting.  Tap, tap, tapping at the keys, furiously trying to record the thoughts in her (my) head.  I can barely keep up with the flow of her need to express herself.

Sometimes my muse disappears.  She gives me no notice, doesn’t leave a note letting me know when or if she’ll be back.  She’s terribly selfish at times like this.

But eventually, she comes back, perky and smiling, ready to provide me with more inspiration, ideas and the gift of expressing my inner thoughts.

I know my muse better than anyone else.  Ever.  But there are times when she surprises me.  She can be very dark, ugly even.  The things that she’s forced me to write make me shudder and shake my head with revulsion.  I’m shocked at the brutality that comes forth. We somehow manage to reconcile and join forces again.

My muse is a shape-shifter.  She’s an ever-changing kaleidoscope of colors, moods, and light.  I love her and despise her.  But I wouldn’t want to ever be without her.

Do you have a muse?  What is your muse like?  

Copyright (C) 2019 Penny wilson

Image by 139904 from Pixabay

Crap Block


I don’t have writer’s block.  I’m writing.  But I’m not writing anything worth a damn.  I’m spewing crap onto the page.

I’ve got 5 or 6 things in draft, but none of it is worth seeing the light of day.

I have Crap Block.  My brain is blocked with nothing but crap and that is what lands on the page.

I want to write.  I’ve got the urge to write.  That itch that propels me toward the keyboard is there.  But what is happening between my brain and my fingertips is pure crap.

What’s the cure for Crap Block?

© 2017 Penny Wilson

What a Mess!


It seems that with my off again, on again process of writing, I now have 4 versions of my novel.  What have I done? !!

The original version has some really great parts, but a weak back story.  So I started the novel over again from scratch!

Enter version #2.

This version has taken a completely different route from the original.  While having the same End Idea as the original, the route it has taken getting there is much darker than I care for.

At some point along the way, I started with a version that was saved from something previous.  I opened the wrong document when I started to write and I created version #3.

After vowing to Just Write The Damned Story, I’ve been making pretty good progress on my novel.  But I have discovered that I made the same error, opening the Wrong Damned Document.

So NOW I have 4 flipping versions of my novel!! Every version is just a little bit different, because every time I would sit down to write, I would just take off from the last sentence on the screen.  I never seem to go down the same path twice.

How to fix it?  I’ve been really frustrated about this the last couple of days.  I’ve got a lot of work involved in this mess.  But I think I’ve come up with a solution.

I’ve gone through and carefully looked at each version and renamed them Versions #1, #2, etc.  This should eliminate future confusion.  I think now I can copy and paste into a Master Version.  I hope.

It sounds like a good idea in theory.

What a mess!