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I was surfing the Internet andtrying to relax after a particularly grueling practice. There were so many sitesabout fairies and elves, with some of the most beautiful pictures I had everseen. While looking at a picture of a fairy dressed in a flowing blue dress, mynose suddenly filled with the strong scent of salt.
"Go away," Isaid.
"You know you want to ... come on, open up Word," my muse,Vadum Regina, replied.
"No, actually, I don't. What I want to do issit here and look at these pictures, maybe read a few myths, and unwind," Icountered.
Vadum Regina sighed loudly. I knew an argument was about tostart, as always. She doesn't understand that when I'm tired I just don't want towrite. She seems to think that she can just waltz in here at any moment andinspire me.
"My, that elf is kind of cute. Can't you see him courtingthat fairy in white over there? Hmm ... maybe that fairy in pink likes him and hedoesn't even notice. Of course, they would live in the woods, on flowers..." And she was off with her steady stream of ideas for a newnovel.
With a groan, I opened up Word and began typing frantically. Ofcourse, Vadum Regina's ideas were fragmented and out of order, and I was surethat as soon as I was done, I wouldn't be able to understand anything I hadwritten. Finally, I just stopped.
"You know what? I don't want totype anymore.
I'm sick of typing. Go find someone else to bug,"I said curtly.
"I said, that'senough. No more. I'm through. Would you like me to spell it?"
"Idon't have to take this abuse. I could leave any time I want. You don't order mearound!" she practically yelled.
That's when I started to ignore her.Not a good thing, because to ignore her, I had to do something else, which endedup being to read what I had typed. All I could think about was how good itsounded, just a few name changes there, fixing the tense of verbs here, and itwasn't half-bad. I actually wanted to continue.
"... and when I cometo you, it's because you need help, because you wouldn't be half the writer youwere if it weren't for -"
I interrupted, "Are you done? Nowwhat's going to happen to Trini next? I think maybe she should see Cipe flirtingwith Anesta -"
Instead of being mad at me for interrupting her, oreven because I had told her to go away, she was mad that I had even consideredwriting that scene.
"What?" she shrieked, "No way is thatgoing to happen! Cipe is going to confide in Trini that he has a thing forAnesta! Isn't that obvious?" She would talk to me as if I'mstupid.
As suddenly as I had stopped, I was off again, trying to get itall down before Vadum Regina wanted to stop. Inevitably, she did, and right inthe middle of the story.
"Why'd you stop?" I asked,frustrated.
"I'm done for the day," came the haughtyreply.
"What? You can't just leave me hanging like this! I need tofinish the story, not only for me, but for Trini and Cipe!" That was one ofthe first things Vadum Regina had taught me: never put yourself before yourcharacters, write because it's their fate you're deciding. I couldn't believe shewould do this to me.
"I'll come by when I have the time. Right nowI'm off to see someone."
"When will you be back?" Iwhined.
"Hmmm ... maybe I'll pencil you in between lunch withFabio and tennis with Leonardo."
"No, don't leave me, VadumRegina! You can't do this! It has to be in the Muse Work for Dummies guidebook orsomething! Do other muses just leave their tormented victims like this?" Iquestioned.
"Actually, you're right; there is a section on leavingyour quarry hanging in the guidebook. It says, and I quote, 'Feel free to leaveyour quarry hanging, in fact, it is encouraged if you'd like to be promoted fromMuse to God/Goddess,' so I am completely within my bounds."
And withthat, she was gone. No puff of smoke, no flashing lights, she just disappeared. Iknew, somehow, that she would not be back for quite a while. I stared at thecomputer screen, pages and pages of my novel typed, and, with a sigh, saved itunder NFBOM - Not Finished Because of Muse - just to spite her.