The Muse

My muse is named Larry.

Yes, Larry.

Not a lot of people I’ve met will admit to having a male muse. Of those people the majority of them picture their muse as being an underwear model. You know the type: Shoulder length hair that has just enough wave to look unkempt all the time. Abs so tight you could bounce a pair of panties off of them. Lets not forget those strong arms that are always so comforting to step into on a Bad Writing Day. (These can also be considered Romance Cover muses)

Larry is none of this.

I like to think of him as being the result of a horrible cell splicing incident.  Larry is a mixture of Larry the Cable Guy and the Absinthe Fairy from Eurotrip. He is fond of the spandex and tutu look, much to my constant horror, and for some reason wears pink. Those who know me at all will know I absolutely abhor pink in all of its variations. I suspect Larry does it to irritate me. Its one of his many hobbies.

Larry’s hobbies include, but are not limited to: Visiting nudist colonies, watching girl on girl porn, and sleeping on the couch. On top of those favorites he also has a knack for waking me up in the middle of the night with a good idea. Or preventing me from sleeping altogether with yet another Good Idea.

I must note, Larry has never led me astray on a Good Idea. However we are still discussing his impeccable timing. Whenever I cannot possibly get to the computer or even a pen and paper, Larry is there force feeding me ideas. His favorite spot is the shower.

Yes, he is a pervert. Why do you think most of my work revolves around sex?

It wasn’t until about three or four years ago that Larry finally showed his face. As much grief as he gives me, I love the fat bastard. He allowed me to reach outside of the box and find my voice as a writer. Its a brash, bold, and sometimes abrasive voice, but it is mine and damnit, I make it look good.

Larry and I will continue to work together until either he finally pisses me off enough to squish his ass with a fly swatter or he forces me to type my fingers down to nothing but bloody stumps. Either way I am incredibly happy with my discovery of Larry. Now that I have my life back on the proper path he and I can create new stories to thrill, disgust, and entertain the handful of readers I’ve gathered.

Oh, by the way, Larry is the head of the Complaint Department as well. Address any and all problems you have with my writing to him. He’ll probably moon you as an answer, but who am I to tell  him how to run his department? *smirks*

7 thoughts on “The Muse

  1. Madison Woods

    You know, I’ve never thought about what my muse is or even how it looks. I don’t even know my muse! Scary thought, that. A writer without a muse. Well, now you’ve sent me off on a quest.

    1. Sit and have a nice long chat with that spark of inspiration in your head. It will seem insane, but once you know how to sweet talk that spark to get it to work for you, you’ve found your muse. from then on out you can manipulate your muse to work for you and with you. Sure, you two will have problems. It is the same as any close friendship or relationship. In the long run knowing your muse and knowing what does and doesn’t work for it will make you a more productive writer.

      Or at least that is what Larry has done for me.

  2. James

    I, like most males, have a female muse. Its inherent in our personality to be inspired by the feminine rather than the masculine. But, on the same note, Ravenous tends to run rampant in my head, occasionally causing havoc with my other characters. He also frequently tells the other ones to shut the hell up or else so that he can speak his piece, which is usually something about not liking me all that much.

    1. Honey, I don’t know why you have so many problems with Ravenous. He’s nothing but nice to me. *grin*

      But yes, I’ve found that male writers prefer a female muse. Though most of my female friends favor the same sex in their muse. It may simply take someone truly insane to have a male feeding them inspiration.

  3. Wendy Sparrow

    Larry sounds hawt. My muse looks a lot like Reeve most likely… so yeah… I’d totally bounce panties off his abs.

  4. Pingback: Professional Cavewomen « Super Secret

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