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My Muse is a Cat

Cat staring

I’m sure you didn’t mean to disturb me.

I was talking with my daughter about my woes in summoning my muse during a pandemic and my brain fog. Yes, I was in the whine-one-one zone. Way in it. 

My daughter listened very patiently and then she said, “Your muse sounds like my cats.”

It was a huge lightbulb moment!

My muse is a cat!

It explains everything. 

Cats: I only want your attention when you don’t want to give it to them. 

My muse: I only get excited late at night when you are already in bed or late on Friday when you’re tired from wrestling with me all week.

Cats: If you look at me, it will only make things worse.

My Muse: You looked at me and now that cool idea is gone. And it probably won’t be back.

Cats: I will only eat the food I like and drink from a cup of freshwater that I watch you pour for me. 

My Muse: I know you had to give up Diet Dr. Pepper so now I will only thrive on fudge and lime chips. (Still not happy about this all water stuff.)

Cats: (nudges you at 5:30 am) You can pet me now.

My muse: (nudges me at 2:30 am) I think I’ve figured out your problem but if you don’t write it down or something, I won’t remember in the morning and neither will you. Trust me on this.

Cats: Don’t bother me with your human stuff, I’m napping.

My muse: Don’t bother me with your plot stuff, I’m on a break that just got longer because you bothered me.

looking away cat

There’s more but if you have a cat, you know. If you don’t have a cat? You’ll never understand. I know there are authors who can keep their muses in line. Their muses aren’t cats. Don’t get me wrong, I show up and type stuff. And then the next day I move it into the deleted files folder and type some more. I think I’ve typed 90,000 words that I’ve distilled down to 30,000 words that I don’t hate. 

Yeah, my muse is a cat. 

Now, I’m thinking back, I’m not sure it is always a cat, but for now, it’s totally a cat. Despite it, I have an almost finished project. Now I wish I could take a nap like a cat, but you guessed it. Only my muse naps like a cat. 

How are things in your brain today?

Perilously yours,

Pauline

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