Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Writing post of the day. . .

I've these last 10 minutes been musing on my muse. Here's what I know.

It's not like a dog that comes when its called. It's a cat. It comes when it wants to. I have to feed it and care for it and, still, it will sometimes shy away or even run away when I try to summon it.

It may plop itself down, six feet away from me, just to sun itself.




If I try to get hold of it when it's not in the mood, it may even scratch me.

I didn't ask to be the kind of writer whose muse is a cat. But then again, the cat is my favorite animal. What did I expect?

*Postscript, September 29. Between ideas for my screenplay "The Obit" and two new poems, including this one, the cat came back!


















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