But when, Calliope, thy loud harp rang--
In Epic grandeur rose the lofty strain;
The clash of arms, the trumpet's awful clang
Mixed with the roar of conflict on the plain;
The ardent warrior bade his coursers wheel,
Trampling in dust the feeble and the brave,
Destruction flashed upon his glittering steel,
While round his brow encrimsoned laurels waved,
And o'er him shrilly shrieked the demon of the grave.
-from An Ode To Music, by James G. Percival
Many writers tend to ignore the muse until she no longer assists them. Then they scream of writer's block or simply stare blindly while they grope inside their heads for a new idea.
I believe it is far wiser to greet her everyday with gratitude, humble yourself before her and follow her lead. I have discovered that my muse seems to be leading me into a deeper more dangerous cavern; she has of late encouraged a far bolder pen (okay - so it's a keyboard), adding touches of human evil and debauchery to my characters' actions that have not always been there.
It was my intent to challenge her today, following a read through of my most recent muse-guided writing of course. After reading the 150 pages we have concocted since the third of May, I bow before her - in awe of her wisdom.
*laughing* I see that silly smirk upon her face, and wonder - will she change my pace?
Ooooooh, I also received the latest Ever'neath character sketches from my artist. Meet (left to right) Bronte Greywood, Cordelain Dunegal and Uallas the Wizard. I'm just so delighted with this group. They've been such fun to write, so it's wonderful to know they will soon be hanging on my walls while I finish up their tale.