Angry Muse is Angry

hepburnpoutWhen angry, count to four. When very angry, swear.
~ Mark Twain

Or in this case… write.

Of course, I’m not writing because I’m angry. I’m getting angry in order to write.

Sometimes the muse requires a touch of blood to make a scene. Sometimes the greedy bitch needs, nay, demands you cut a vein and let it run across the pages. She doesn’t care if it stains or smears. She just needs the guts to be fresh and juicy and laid out there for everyone to see. And as my image of choice for this blog portrays, even the most graceful creature to ever live had to put on an angry face for the sake of her muse.

I’ve been chewing on scabs (wow that sounded gross as hell) for several days. There are scenes I need to bleed for, or rather, bleed out for. I’ve been here mentally for days, writing them for half as long. I’ve dug into my soul and ripped every nightmarish memory from his moorings and am throwing them at the page. My god, they’re bloody.

I may need a transfusion when I’m done.

Cary Grant says we’ll run across this. This thing where the writing takes over the writer. When the characters invade our own personalities. When the other will suddenly not be living with the person they call by name, but rather one of that person’s creations… and all the ugly blood that comes with them.

I warned him I may not be pleasant. I may be downright nasty to be around. He just smiled and said okay. He thinks it’ll be a fun experiment. He thinks it’s something we’ll have to get used to. Something that will pop up again and again. Something we need to learn to pull the other away from.

And he’s right.

But I don’t write romance. I don’t write comedies. I write horror and thrillers and gruesome things happening to horrible people. I emotionally rape my characters and leave them on their knees in a room full of blood, ordering them to feel their way around the pooling blood to find the lone skeleton key somewhere on the floor that will get them out.

They rarely find it.

Here’s hoping Cary Grant knows exactly where the key is on that bloody floor, so he can get me the hell out of that room when this section is done!

One Response to Angry Muse is Angry

Subscribe for Updates

Archives