What does your muse look like? What does he/she sound like? Do they have a tangible voice? Mine does. You might think me quite mad after this blog post, and I could hardly blame you. But my muse is a young man, he’s a bit earnest sounding, very British, and he talks while I’m trying to write.
It’s a bit annoying, actually.
But he does talk, and so I write it down and get on with it, or nothing would ever get done. It’s only been recently that he developed more of an actual “voice”, around the same time that literary agents began telling me that they loved my voice. The first time I’ve actually HAD a writing voice. Because voice is such a dastardly hard thing to pin down, isn’t it? It develops only when it wants to, and sometimes it seems, quite suddenly. Before that you’re confused, floating around, trying out first this voice and then that, like you’re trying on hats.
And then something clicks, eventually – sometimes years and years later – and you’ve found it. That sweet spot, that “just right” feeling, that place where the words actually flow instead of being jerked out of you painfully, one syllable at a time.
There are some of you who have woken up one day, and to your shock, found your muse fully clothed and substantial, standing at the foot of the bed, tapping her foot impatiently, demanding that you get up and write. Tell me, what does he or she look like? How do they sound?
Have you found him or her yet, or is your muse still a vaguely fuzzy blob that hovers over one shoulder as you try on hats?
If you know what your muse looks like, post a link to the photo in the comments below, or create your own blog post and let me know, I’ll link back to it in the bottom of this one.
photo credit: <a href=”https://www.flickr.com/photos/cedwardbrice/5929443754/”>CEBImagery.com</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a> <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/2.0/”>cc</a>