08 February 2010

How to Amuse the Muse

I think I've figured out part of the reason for my writing slump of the past year. OK, aside from the ridiculous idea of going back to school and taking actual classes for actual college credits (which was a well-worth-it but miserable experince). And aside from the full time job, two kids, freelance business, house, and husband.

My car sucked.

No, really. I hated it. And that's a bad, bad thing if your muse lives in your car like mine does.

Oh, fine, laugh all you like, but she does. I don't know why, but she likes to sit behind me when I'm driving (and obnoxiously cranking my tunes) and whisper in my ear about worlds, weapons, and wonderment. Not sure if it's the motion, the tunes, or what, but she likes it there, and when I'm stuck on a character or plot, that's where I go to to get unstuck.

And having to drive a car that I grew to actively hate made that impossible, since I spent most of my time in the car cussing at it (and its utter inability to accelerate properly and tendancy to require an Act of Congress to change gears). This left the muse little opportunity to whisper anything, nevermind the fact that whispering wasn't going to cut it over the volume of the cussing (though, surprisingly, the whispering does just fine against the tunes - go figure).

Anyway.

In December, we got rid of the Stupid Car and bought Ruby. I love Ruby. Ruby shifts when I would shift. Ruby pushes you back in your seat when you hit the gas. Ruby has a bump shift, which means I can take her out of Drive, put her in Manual, and shift her myself, if the roads are a mess of snow and ice. Or if I just need to.

Yeah, silly as it is to love a car, I LOVE Ruby.

More importantly, my muse loves Ruby too. And the last few weeks she's started whispering again. And that makes the brain happy.

So what if Ruby was just barely in our price range. So what if the payments give me a heart attack. So what if I had to compromise my high-gas-mileage-or-forget-it principles.

The muse is amused. Some days, that's all that matters.

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