Is Her Name Muse?

Creativity is a slippery little devil. It cuddles up to me and whispers in my ear just as I’m falling asleep, all promises and blandishment. In the morning, however, it is all rumpled and its eyes are crusty and it squinches up its face and says Go away.

So, I go about my house, doing small chores and cleanings, keeping one eye on the grumplepuss and hoping that it will work out the kinks and come play. Finally, giving up, I sit at my computer, play some game, edit a story, look at images I’m considering for a book cover—and the little stinker just lays there and snores. Hmph. I’m staring deadlines in the face, and it can’t be bothered.

Grumbling under my breath, I wander into the kitchen thinking about dinner. I could come up with something tantalizing and tasty that would make my husband sit up and bark if I could only get some help from the lay-about in the other room, but noooo. Fine. I’ll just reheat the chicken and dumplings we had two nights ago and make some rice with…

I’m standing at the refrigerator, door open, with my eyes fastened on the pot in my hands, but my mind is juggling three different ideas for the book cover I’ve been contemplating. Coming to myself I hear the giggle behind me and smell the sweet breath of Creativity washing over me. Poor Ed. His dinner will have to wait. I have a will-o’-the-wisp to follow….

Maiden posting

I’m having an affair. I’m completely infatuated, enamored, bewitched. And I’ve been this way for a very long time.

Hey, whoa! Don’t fret yourself. Ed and I are still as happy as the proverbial clams. In fact, Ed’s in the same besotted state and I’m not upset about it at all. Indeed, sharing our obsession brings us a great deal of pleasure. We’re both simply smitten with words.

There are just so many of them, and they do such a great many wonderful things! Nice, normal, everyday things like flush and wash; solemn, important things like communicate and pontificate; fun and mischievous things like squirt and tickle; or naughty things like bait and switch. Of course, that last was actually a phrase, but words were definitely involved.

The thing to remember about words, though, is that they have to be used. A word left too long unused dries out and turns to a nasty, powdery bit of bleh when a person finally tries to put it back into circulation. Think of “whom.” It is almost impossible to say “to whom” without pursing up the lips and giving the head a little snooty jiggle as though the spirit of a withered old British governess had taken over for that moment. It’s a shame. Grammar doesn’t have to be sanctimonious and prudish just to be proper.

Words are breathtakingly expressive—it is, of course, their main function: to express. Think of bloviate. Even someone who has never heard that word knows instinctively what it means when it’s used to describe a Senator. And words are succinct. Contemplate euphoria. Describe it in less than five words. Difficult, huh? Yet that one word delivers whole paragraphs of experience in four syllables.

I’m opening my blog with this little confession about my ongoing frolic with words to give my readers fair warning. I’m not embarrassed to use flamboyant or old-fashioned or uncommon words. I’m not likely to swear, but I may bring swear words to mind. At any rate, that has been my experience with my children.

I hope to irritate my writing muse enough with my Thursday scribblings to get her to come out and play with the characters in my stories. If I irritate you at the same time and make you think of more words, even if they’re just to throw at me, then I will feel as though my time has not been wasted. Please feel free to use the comments section to deploy them in the direction of my quivering psyche. Joyous day.

Mellie