Here we have a very strange situation: I really have nothing to say. No, really. Not much at all.
Well, I realized that having “not much at all” is a lot different than, “Nothing to say”, so I must have something to say, yes?
I was chatting with The Muse a little last night, right before she sort of vanished into the aether, which sort of left me with little to do. Of course, I can hear The Muse, and her voice is always the same: ”Get to writing, Ray.” That’s what she’s always saying. Sometimes I think she only loves me for my words . . .
The last week I’ve been working on a final polish of Her Demonic Majesty, which I should have gotten around to doing a while back, but I had a lot more going on. Since I’m currently “between projects,” as one might say, I’ve thrown myself into this novel.
I thought I caught most everything the first time through, but this time, I’m not only reading the story, but I’m much better with my editing that I was a few months ago. And while the story is good, I’m finding so many little . . . things that needed fixing.
Because The Muse wasn’t around; because I was missing her something bad; and because I wanted to really get this story cleaned up, I launched into it.
And by the time the night was over, I had a good 6,500, or so, words edited and, in some instances, rewritten.
I finished Part One, which ends with one of my favorite scenes I’ve ever written, which is an attack on “The Castle”, a large structure on the south side of Chicago. The Castle is protected by magical defensive wards–yes, there is magic in the book–but there is something else: gargoyles. Twenty eight of them, to be precise. And they are mean bastards; each bigger than a Shire draught horse, and weighing in at around a ton. I’ll admit, I stole them from the school that Annie and I created, and this is just one more link between that world and this.
Anyway, the person launching the attack is a super sized douche rocket, and she had no problem walked a lot of faceless people into the sharp ends of sticks–which is exactly what she does. And there is a lot of–well, I won’t call it bloodshed, but in the end the mob attacking The Castle is destroyed, but so are my lovely gargoyles, going down like punks, not far from the corner of Halsted Street.
The thing I like about the last two chapters of Part One is that you see the attack from two different points of view. Chapter 6 is seen from outside The Castle, where the battle happens, and Chapter 7 is seen from inside The Castle, where you see a couple of the main characters going through the motions of monitoring the attack, realizing they are on the losing side of the battle, and the preparations they take to get the hell out of town. There is one thing that happens in Chapter 7, where The Castle goes into “Doomsday Mode”, which I remember coming up with as I was writing the chapter. I look at what I wrote back in November, and I sometimes wonder, “How did I write something like that on the fly?”
It’s a great deal of fun, wondering how one can do those things.
More editing tonight, though I might put in a little original writing. If I don’t, The Muse gets cranky.
She’s as bad as a gargoyle sometimes . . .
May 15, 2012 at 5:05 am
“Doomsday Mode” – I like that.
May 15, 2012 at 5:12 am
I do, too. I should reprint that part.
May 15, 2012 at 4:22 pm
I’d love to hear more about your ‘muse’ sometime.
May 15, 2012 at 4:25 pm
She’s really a beautiful creature.
May 15, 2012 at 4:27 pm
I was wondering, and I hope you don’t mind my asking. How literal are you being when you speak of her? Do you believe you are communicating with a spiritual being? Is it simply your internal dialogue you have with your character getting the better of you? Or is it simply whimsy? I hope this question doesn’t come across as naive. Just I’ve known many eccentric authors so nothing strikes me as peculiar anymore.
May 15, 2012 at 4:31 pm
My Muse is a real person to me. I love her and adore her. That’s the truth. With out her, I don’t write. I need her input, and I need her to tell me to get my ass into gear from time to time.
May 15, 2012 at 4:38 pm
I absolutely believe/respect that. But, I guess what I was I was asking? What do you feel that she is? A spirit guide? An actual being? Or part of your subconscious that you are in touch with? Or are you simply not concerned with the matter. I’m not trying to be condescending I’m actually very interested.
May 15, 2012 at 4:41 pm
I understand. I think of her as a real person. If possible, she would stand next to me and see what I’m writing. She would guide me. She is very real to me, and I see her as a real person. I can feel her in the room when I write, and whenever I’d finish a story, she’d kiss me madly.
May 15, 2012 at 5:12 pm
Oh, I understand she’s real to you. And I utterly respect that. I’ve known authors who believe that their characters are real spiritual beings that communicate with them, and others who believe that the character is just so engrained that they know the character’s responses without thinking about it, and can interact with them on a mental level. Me, I’ve had both spirit guides and characters who felt very real to me who I knew so well they felt alive in my mind. I believe in both, and both were real to me.
May 15, 2012 at 5:16 pm
When you get close to your Muse that way, and they help you so much, they are very real. So real, you can feel them next to you when you write
May 15, 2012 at 5:34 pm
Understood.
I have similar relationships myself.
May 16, 2012 at 7:24 am
My muse has multiple personalities, and is on the edge most of the time. Cranky sometimes, playfuy most of the time, diva full time that’s my muse. She prefers lounging by the pool, but as I don’t own the pool I have to find other means to entertain her and keep her happy. When she gets cranky though – yeah some serious “doomsday mode” stuff! Always interesting to read your blog!