Meet My Muse with Alison Stuart
While I would like to think of my muse as an ethereal personage, perched atop my bookshelf, helpfully strumming a lyre and dropping pearls of wisdom on to my desk, I suspect my muse is more likely to be found in a drunken stupor underneath my desk or completely absent and drinking wine with other muses at a local taverna.
The only time I can guarantee that my muse will present herself in good order at my study door is when I am in the middle of a household or work crisis and writing is the furthest thing from my mind. Then, and only then, will Calliope, Clio or Thalia (or whatever her name is) pluck at my sleeve with a passage of purple prose to impart a fabulous idea for a new story.
In short muses are unreliable and no substitute for hard…
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