The Story of the Middle Muse

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The Story of the Middle Muse
Topic Started: Friday Oct 21 2011, 01:06 AM (319 Views)
CanuckDaysfan	Friday Oct 21 2011, 01:06 AM Post #1
Keeper of the Clips Posts: 16,745 Group: Managers Member #1 Joined: November 22, 2005 Lucas & Sami are inevitable.	I was searching for something on one of my old hard drives tonight and came across this little story that I wrote and posted during bout with writer's block back in 2005 (when 2C still lived on MSN) and thought I'd share it here. Obviously from my lack of story updates, I'm still having problems with my pesky middle muse, but I'm working on him The Story of the Middle Muse In the Land of Literary there lived a lass named Nukie. Nukie’s life was rich and full – daytimes filled with love and laughter, and nighttimes spent admiring the majesty of the heavens above. But from time to time, a sense of sadness and frustration threatened Nukie’s bliss. One day, feeling like Atlas with the weight of the world balancing upon her shoulders, Nukie sought out the guidance of the High Priestess Linda, Supreme Mistress of the Land of Literary. “Oh Mistress, you must help me!” She pleaded tearfully. “Whatever is wrong dear Nukie?” She replied, her beautiful face momentarily marred by lines of concern over the troubles of her faithful follower. Nukie’s bottom lip quivered as tears filled her green eyes. “It’s my stories.” “Your stories? Your stories are fine Nukie. Why the sorrow?” “You don’t understand. They used to be so easy. The words practically flowed onto the paper much like the water falls down the side of the great mountain.” The High Priestess Linda smiled knowingly. Nukie had encountered an age old problem in the Land of Literary. “Ah, I see you have finally met the Middle Muse.” Nukie swiped away her tears, turning her trembling face back to the high priestess. “The Middle Muse?” Linda smiled serenely. “It was bound to happen sooner or later. Have you ever heard the story of the Three Literary Muses?” Nukie shook her head. She’d heard many tales of muses over the years. One in particular, the Muse of Photons had helped her greatly in her pursuit of astronomy and photography, but she was a relative newcomer to the written word in the Land of Literary. “No Mistress, please tell me.” Linda extended her hand to Nukie, beckoning her to follow over to the grassy dale adjoining Bookish Brook. Selecting a suitable spot beside the babbling water she motioned for Nukie to sit, before gracefully descending beside her. “Nukie as you have no doubt been told over the years the Land of Literary exists because the heavens decided to grace us with the Gift of the Written Word. “And the Gift is what allows us to have stories and books and plays and poems.” Nukie nodded enthusiastically, remembering the ethos that had been instilled from birth into every Land of Literary child. “That is correct, but what often gets left out when recounting the legend of the Gift is the contribution of the Three Literary Muses.” “What are the three muses names?” Linda looked off into the distance, smiling fondly as she spoke of the first. “The very first one is the Beginning Muse. He or she—” “He.” Nukie interrupted. “My muses are always he’s.” Linda’s eyes crinkled with amusement at the impishness of her pupil. “Okay, then, he is the one responsible for starting a story. He has been known to hover, whispering ideas softly in your ear, often when you least expect or desire it. He almost never sleeps as he is always on the lookout for a new tale to be told. He can be annoying, but his enthusiasm guarantees that you are never irritated for long.” “I’ve met him!” Nukie recounted with a light in her eyes. “He told me the stories of schemes and dreams and butterflies and babies!” Linda beamed at the look of pure wonderment on Nukie’s face. “Yes, he is familiar to many, just not by name.” “You said there were three Mistress, who are the others?” “I am glad you asked.” She answered warmly. Reaching down she plucked a single daisy and absently counted its petals as she envisioned the third muse. “The last of the three muses is known as the Ending Muse.” Unable to contain her eagerness, Nukie interrupted again. “The last? What happened to the second one?” “Patience, sweet Nukie. I am saving his name for very last, as he is the one causing your dismay.” “Oh.” Nukie bit her lip thoughtfully. “Sorry.” Linda smiled tolerantly. “It is alright. Those who do not question, willfully discard the opportunity to learn.” Reaching down she plucked yet another daisy, twirling it absently as a joyful expression filled her face. “As I was saying, the Ending Muse is the third. He brings resolution, warm fuzzies and happily ever after. He is a problem for a few, those who find themselves unable to ever end anything, but for most he is the best part of the process. Quite often one meets him early along the road, sometimes even before finishing with the Beginning Muse and most definitely before spending much time with the Middle Muse.” Nukie was enthralled by her recounting. “I love happily ever after!” Linda nodded in agreement. “We all do, but sometimes getting there poses a difficult problem.” “Yes.” Nukie sighed. “The Middle Muse is a stubborn soul. Depending on the time of day, the place, or even the weather on Jupiter, he can be your greatest help or your most horrible nemesis. If he is agreeable, then the words fall to the paper like sands in an hourglass. If he’s in a tetchy mood he builds a block so high that nary a way around can be found at first glance. And some, when faced with the block, give up and never scribe again.” Nukie looked up at Linda, her expression one of deep distress. “That’s terrible!” She furrowed her brow, engrossed in a moment of intense concentration. “But many stories have been told, so there must be a way!” “There is.” She opened her arms, encompassing their surroundings in her embrace. “You simply feed him.” Nukie looked around in confusion. “Feed him what? Fish?” Linda laughed. “No, no. You feed him inspiration from everything and everyone around you. He thrives on details from your surroundings, your encounters, your life and the lives of your friends, foes and family, imaginary or real.” Nukie was skeptical. “But what if it doesn’t work? What if there simply is no story to be told?” Linda chastised her gently. “Now Nukie, do you remember what the Muse of Photons taught you in photography?” Nukie tilted her head for a moment, recalling the many adventures she and the Photon Muse had shared. Suddenly it occurred to her. The answer had been right in front of her all along. “He always told me to spend a moment framing my picture in my mind before I took it. To step back and look at the whole scene, decide what had to be in it and what I could do without. And he said to do it often. But most importantly, he taught me that there’s always a picture, even if you don’t see it at first.” She could barely contain her glee as she realized that she had found the way around the block. “So you’re saying that my story is like my pictures. It’s always there. I just have to look for it. And if I remember to always feed my Middle Muse he’ll help instead of hinder. ” Linda nodded encouragingly. Nukie had learned well. “Now go on dear Nukie and nourish the Middle Muse, and we will meet again at the telling of the tales.” After giving Linda a heartfelt hug of appreciation, Nukie skipped off alongside Bookish Brook, knowing that never again would the Middle Muse cause her a worry. ~♥~
	I hope that you see right through my walls I hope that you catch me, 'cause I'm already falling I'll never let a love get so close You put your arms around me and I'm home "Anyone can be passionate, but it takes real lovers to be silly." ~ Rose Franken


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