Monday, March 8, 2010

My Darling, My Muse

O! for a muse of fire, that would ascend the brightest heaven of invention.
-William Shakespeare



Many writers have a "Muse." Whether that muse is real or fictional is entirely dependent on the writer. A muse is a source of inspiration. People experiencing writer's block often say things like "My muse isn't speaking today." To me, a muse is something you can write about no matter what the circumstances. Even when the imagination well is dry, I can write about my muse. I love him, he is my "darling." Though he would hate me calling him that. He is the first male POV (Point of View) I ever wrote from (the second was a character in my first squabble on Cleanplace*, won first place, but I'm not bragging or anything!).

Tonight I've been thinking a lot about my muse, so, I thought I would introduce you to him. Several years ago I joined the above mentioned online writing group. Soon after, I decided to join the upcoming Forum RPG**. Browsing through some pictures, I find one of a white fox with long white wings. Shayde. Oh, Shayde. The obstinate, know-it-all flying fox, who got on everyone's case, for everything. Shayde, despite the fact that he is a winged fox, is probably the most real character to me. I wrote for him in this RPG for, well, probably well over a year. After that I wrote some with a friend through email, emails I sadly don't have anymore. Anyways. Shayde is that Muse I can always write for, no matter what. Want to get to know Shayde better. Here's a little passage about him as a pup (I liked writing this because Shayde is all serious and would hate for people to read this :-P)

Shayde bounded on his small white paws across the sweet green grass, jumping ever so slightly at the purple butterfly above him. The object of his fancy landed gracefully on a dandelion, waving her wings as if to taunt him. He crouched low and sprung, jaws snapping. He stopped in shock and tried to shake the dandelion out of his mouth as the butterfly fluttered hauntingly over his head in triumph.

A deep baritone laugh turned the indignant pup's head back toward the house. The Prophet stood in the doorway with laughter in his eyes as he motioned his apprentice towards him. Shayde threw one last glare at the pesky sprite above him and raced back to the house, stumbling a bit on the incline. Shayde ran around the Prophet's feet playfully, nipping at his ankles. The man laughed and picked the Fias up by the scruff to look him in the eye. Shayde batted at the man's face, but his paws came up short. The Prophet laughed again.

"You know, you're supposed to be more intelligent than a regular fox pup, but you still act like one."

Shadye let his paws fall, and glared at his mentor. "I can speak."

He chuckled, placing Shayde on a bench. "Yes you can, and sometimes too much."

"But I also know how to hold my tongue, unlike dogs," he said with a bit of annoyance in his voice.

"I beg to differ, and stop putting your paws on the table, they're dirty!" The Prophet continued to help their maid, Melina, set the table.

Shayde looked down at his browned paws, slightly embarrassed, and hopped down to go wash them.

"You do have wings," The Prophet reminded him, not for the first time. "You can use them."

Shayde glanced back, with unexpected maturity in his eyes. "I fly because I can, I walk because I enjoy it."



So that's Shayde... He's fun! Well, fun to write, he's not a very fun Fias... Melina is a friend's character, not mine. Though we decided her and Shayde grew up together.

Okay, I kind of lied earlier. I actually have two muses, the other is a real person. She is my pastor's daughter. Though I don't think I've actually told her mom I've written about her ::oops::. Of course, now she will because she is probably going to read this, but oh well. Here is a little school assignment written with this girl.


I’ve heard it said that all babies look a little funny when they’re first born. I’ve never seen a newly born baby in person, but I can’t imagine [her] ever being “funny looking.” The impish young girl reaches up on her tiptoes to grab a bowl of hard candy on top of the rosewood piano. Her long blonde hair falls into perfect waves, while a neat braid pulls to one side. She pushes one delicate hand on the shorter ledge, and strains further. Her purple shoes barely touch the ground. Her small round face is scrunched in deep concentration, and her blue eyes focus on her lofty goal. Only an inch taller and she might have reached it. Feeling a slight pity, a man hands her a piece. The toddler’s beaming face brightens the small room as she sticks the wrapped candy in her smiling mouth. Taking the candy out with a confused pout, she unwraps the treasure and wipes her red stained fingers on her white jumper, unaware of her mother’s grimace. She pops the strawberry candy back in her mouth, and rolls it around. The sound of her prize hitting her pearl white teeth can be heard through her chubby cheeks. The triumphant girl stands next to the upright piano as if in her own world, simply enjoying her somewhat hard earned victory.


So there it is. My two muses. Do you have a muse? Is there something you can always write about?

*An online teen writing forum. A squabble is a weekly scene challenge centering around specific requirements.
**which is basically a bunch of people each having a character, or several characters, and writing a story together

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