(sighs…)

Inky:  Me heading to work…

Toon: as noted:  Mike Kafe

 

sometimes…

 

Toon: found at funnyminions.com

Doing: working on the manuscript, drinking coffee, and missing the millions.

the muse…

The muse is not an angelic voice that sits on your shoulder and sings sweetly. The muse is the most annoying whine. The muse isn’t hard to find, just hard to like – [he] follows you everywhere, tapping you on the shoulder, demanding that you stop doing whatever else you might be doing and pay attention to [him].

Truism: Harlan Coben
Image: found at art heals wounds

Inky: Mine loves to play hide and seek.  He’s elusive when I want to work, but when I begin to get interested in something else he is the most annoying, bratty, impossible man to ignore.

Doing? nursing a Irish Coffee, heavy on the Irish.  Stereo is going full blast, throbbing ‘Despacito‘ while I ignore my muse’s frustrated whines.   It’s Friday folks. The weekend has started, finally.

muses…

 

My Muse told me he is classified as an ‘Agent of Fortune’.  He is a Traveler who is tasked with inspiring and influencing his person, ‘me’, to make beneficial decisions to their spiritual and physical futures.

He went on to say that as the legend goes, the male muse is cursed because he has seen or been to the future and knows what will happen. Even so he cannot make his person choose the right thing, or make the right decision.  He can only hope to steer me along the right path.

Quirks range from time not affecting them as it does others causing them to phase in and out, sometimes in social situations and the tendency to be irritatingly positive in the worst of situations.

– crickets chirping –

Well it sounded good three bourbons ago….

Definition of ‘male muse’: found in the Urban Dictionary, seriously
Image: Cartoon Stock

true story…

A family member was playing brain quest with our six year old while waiting for her great grandmother.

Question: How many inches are in a foot?

Six year old: “I don’t know?”

Answer: 12

Six year old: “No, it depends on what size the foot is.”

and there are five others just like this one…

I love my family.

Image: Mother Nature Network

writing tip: hacks…

Toon: Henneke, the rest as noted.

morning…

BC Comics: Johnny Hart & Mason Mastroianni

Inky:  I’m sore as heck, scratches, bruises.  Yesterday was the battle of the roses, literally. But today my rose bushes are gorgeous!  If only I could move.

Find the muse? Yeah, he’s sleeping it off in the back bedroom.

Doing:  Connecting the caffeine IV.

not home…

Not at home, gone looking for that sneaky, rum swizzling, lazy, good for nothing muse of mine who was suppose to be back two days ago!

Need me, call me.  But be warned, I may need bail money.

Image: Pixabay

 

 

are you nuts?

Toon: as noted: Wiley Ink, inc.

 

writing tip: the lie…

If you ask me, the real reason people choose to show rather than tell is that it’s so much easier to write “the big brown torn vinyl couch” than it is to describe internal emotional states without resorting to canned and sentimental language. You will never be told you’re cheesy if you describe a couch, but you might very well be told you’re cheesy if you try to describe loneliness. The phrase “Show, don’t tell,” then, provides cover for writers who don’t want to do what’s hardest (but most crucial) in fiction.

Besides, the distinction between showing and telling breaks down in the end. “She was nervous” is, I suppose, telling, whereas “She bit her fingernail” is, I suppose, showing. But is there any meaningful distinction between the two? Neither of them is a particularly good sentence, though if I had to choose I’d probably go with “She was nervous,” since “She bit her fingernail” is such a generic gesture of anxiety it seems lazy on the writer’s part—insufficiently imagined.

Making sense: Joshua Henkin, Why “Show, Don’t Tell” is the Great Lie of Writing Workshops, (Essay on Writer’s Workshop June 19, 2012)
Image: University of Waterloo

Inky: I’m struggling with a passage in my manuscript that reminded me of the essay I read a couple of years ago in a section of writer’s workshop called ‘There Are No Rules.’ Revisiting it hasn’t eased the struggle, yet.  But it will.

– Crickets chirping –

Man, that last bit sounded so twee.

Doing: laughing…