Some Write It Hot

November 18, 2010

Muses by KevaD

Filed under: Writing life — dangerouslysexy @ 04:00
Tags: , ,

Where does your muse live? What stirs the salient soul to rise and whisper in your ear?

Mine arrives about the second hour of my 5½-hour lawn mowing duties and buzzes incessantly, a mosquito in my brain. It really whizzes me off. Have you ever tried to take notes while bouncing up and down on a Cub Cadet garden tractor? Trust me on this point. The seat springs only serve an aesthetic purpose.

I think she (my muse has to be female as only a woman could pick such an inconvenient time to get frisky) takes delight in torturing me. Vivid scenes flash through my mind. Characters abound, all talking at once, clambering to the forefront to be heard.

The strongest become focal points. From them tales are told, plots identified, romantic interests are paired, and endings take charge to mold it all into place.

Then a tag line snickers at me as the mower blades mutilate a patch of dandelions, and all hell breaks loose.

Mental outlines fall like bowling pins since the new arrival’s a ten pound rolling ball of excitement for a whole new story concept.

Still, my muse does have a heart. She trims the tag to something easy to remember such as “When Harry met Sally she made him take off her shoes,” or “His first kiss would have been better with a partner,” or “Afraid the parachute might not open, he rode the plane into the mountain” so I can file it away and rejoin the cast for my new novel and get to know them better.

For the next couple of hours I’m more a director seated in the gallery adjusting the actors’ locations on the stage, creating their costumes, drafting the script, and learning the minutia that makes them all individuals.

Lowell has a twitch. Paula tugs at buttons when nervous. Johnson has a big Johnson, when he remembers to put the pump in his pocket.

The trick is memorizing the lines and faces. Once the stage is set I become the producer repeating the play over and over until the last blade of grass falls and I can run into the house to my computer.

It works for me and my muse. Most of the time.

You see, sometimes my wife’s home and at the door to remind me the trimming isn’t done.

Within the gas-powered weed eater lies danger. That muse is definitely male and loves whacking people. He’s a serial killer at heart.

But that’s another tale in another file.


  1. First of all let me say, “Why female?” MY muse does exactly the same and he’s a gay male, so there! He also likes to whisper sweet nothings in my ear when we are behind some fool doing 25 in a 45 mile an hour zone. I’ve noticed those suggestions often involve firearms…

    Note to KevaD: Digital voice recorders work great while on lawnmower…if you want to record engine noises.

    Comment by Debbie Vaughan — November 18, 2010 @ 05:43 | Reply

    • I have no idea why “female”. She chose me, not the other way around.
      I’m starting to think the troll under the stairs has a crush on her, though.

      Comment by KevaD — November 18, 2010 @ 08:44 | Reply

  2. Because women know when to catch you unawares with something fantastic!!! Haven’t you figured that out yet, KevaD? Oh, I love it when my muse arrives. We grin at each other and start the play. Exhilarating!!

    Comment by Jadette Paige — November 18, 2010 @ 08:55 | Reply

    • Thought you’d appreciate this news item, Jadette:
      In Chernigov, Ukraine, a husband decided to get “frisky” while his wife was vacuuming. Apparently she wasn’t in the mood. She wrapped the cord around his throat and killed him.

      Comment by KevaD — November 18, 2010 @ 09:44 | Reply

      • Ahhh, my kind of woman! Varoom Varoom!!

        Comment by Jadette — November 18, 2010 @ 21:21

  3. My muse comes to me through my dreams. Some visits are frighteningly eerie and I wake up in a cold sweat, shaking and too awake to settle back down. Other times, my muse dances with magical dust floating in the air while music plays and elves sway in time. I love my muse cause she is open to all kinds of tales and always leads me along the right path. I can fully understand where you’re coming from KevaD!

    Comment by Judith Leger — November 18, 2010 @ 09:00 | Reply

    • Ya gotta love a muse who makes you sweat and shake in bed.

      Comment by KevaD — November 18, 2010 @ 09:45 | Reply

  4. My muse seems to present herself at the most inconvenient times, usually, when the kids are demanding my attention or when I’m battling a mass of traffic, in which I should seriously be focusing on the road and not the vivid images swirling in my head. Of course, there are times when she is right on target and graces me during my stolen moments of solitude when I am engrossed in a beautiful daydream of lovers, embracing each other, fighting for their love or simply–visualizing the happily ever after ending. So, where does my muse live? I do not know, KevaD, but I do know; I am most grateful she comes. Great post, KevaD!

    Comment by Shaw — November 18, 2010 @ 09:46 | Reply

    • Hmm.
      Sounds like you, Debbie, and her Glock should carpool sometime.

      Comment by KevaD — November 18, 2010 @ 10:06 | Reply

  5. My muse changes with each story I write. Sometimes male, sometimes female but always trying to distract me when I’m driving or stuck in the office working. The minute lunchtime arrives or I get home and fire up the laptop they fall silent and I have to coax them out with chocolate or red wine. At least that’s what I tell myself. 🙂

    Comment by Lillian Grant — November 18, 2010 @ 13:35 | Reply

    • Just be glad all those voices in your head don’t talk at once, Lillian.
      Of course, with enough chocolate and wine, that could be quite a party.

      Comment by KevaD — November 18, 2010 @ 14:23 | Reply

  6. Holy smokes you have a big yard, that’s a lot of mowing.

    My muse likes to lie in wait and come out to chat at bedtime, then I can’t shut her up. LOL If only I could trick her into talking during the day we’d be in business.

    Comment by Lauren Fraser — November 18, 2010 @ 13:45 | Reply

  7. Five full acres with a 52″ mower deck. Takes a while, but I love it.

    Yeah. The bedtime talks. If it was my female muse, that’d be one thing. But it’s usually KevaD the troll wanting to snuggle up with me. If he’d trim those toenails…

    Comment by KevaD — November 18, 2010 @ 14:29 | Reply

  8. Showers, driving, dishwashing…I think my muse doesn’t visit unless half–and only half–my brain is engaged elsewhere. Must be shy. Or maybe he, she, or it doesn’t like the logical half.

    And I think your wife must be a saint.

    Great post!

    Comment by Cherise Sinclair — November 18, 2010 @ 19:48 | Reply

    • At least I know better than to disurb my wife with the vacuum cleaner in her hands.

      Comment by KevaD — November 18, 2010 @ 21:28 | Reply

  9. Uhhhhhhhh …. wives vacuum? Really? And here I was under the impresson that they just made you buy really sexy shoes for them. Wow…vacuuming huh? That’s amazing.

    Oh yeah the muse thing… Her name is Sasha and she’s probably the most active little minx you’ve never seen. There was this one time at band camp…………

    Comment by Cornelle — November 19, 2010 @ 05:45 | Reply

    • Dude!
      I think I know her!

      Comment by KevaD — November 20, 2010 @ 07:26 | Reply

  10. Ok I know I’m slow for sure now. I just caught the “Johnson had a big johnson when he remembers to put the pump in his pocket thing.” roflmao

    That was just wrong!

    Comment by Cornelle — November 21, 2010 @ 09:56 | Reply

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