A Writer argues with his muse by t.m. wright

 

The muse says, Put two words together. Go ahead. Just two words as the start of this piece of writing you want to do.

Okay. No problem. (pauses) Okay. “We are…”

“We are” what?

“We are going to have a hard time here in the Sierras.”

An interesting start, but what do you know about the Sierras?

Nothing.

I thought so. Nothing. Wouldn’t you rather write about something you know rather than something you don’t know? Change the sentence.

Okay: “We are to going to have a hard time here in suburbia.”

You know about suburbia?

Yes, I live in suburbia. And I used to live in suburbia. I know most of what there is to know about it.

Good. Who’s “we”?

“We”?

You start your sentence with, “We are”… Who’s “we”?

Gee, I don’t know. It just seemed to be a good start to a sentence. “We are . . . ” You get a couple of people together, doing something (“are”), and it can’t help but be interesting.

You’re sure they’re people?

Sure I’m sure they’re people. They’re not . . . Maine coon cats.

Why not?

Well, shit, because I don’t write about Maine coon cats.

Why not?

Because I’m not interested in Maine coon cats.

You’re interested only in people?

I didn’t say that. And I didn’t mean I wasn’t interested in Maine coon cats. I’ve even owned a few. They’re neat. Big, fat lumps of cat. But what can you write about them?

Well, you can write what you just wrote. “Big fat lumps of cat.”

Give me a break. That’s not what I intended—to write about cats—when I started my sentence with “We are”…

But you just said you didn’t know what you intended.

Did I?

More or less.

Yeah, I guess I did. But I can tell you that “We” refers to people. I know that.

Okay, what people?

People who live in suburbia, I guess.

I don’t think so.

Mr. Know-it-all. Didn’t my sentence continue, “. . . going to have trouble here in suburbia”?

Yes, but that doesn’t make “We” suburbanites.

Sure it does. No. Wait. It doesn’t, does it? It only means they (“We”) are going to have trouble in suburbia. They could be passing through, just moving in…

Are they?

Just passing through? Moving in? I don’t know, I’d have to think about it. I’d have to add another sentence, I think.

Go ahead, then.

Okay. “We are going to have trouble here in suburbia. So many suburbanites.”

And?

And what? They don’t like suburbanites.

So they’re moving in? Is that what you’re saying? They’re moving into suburbia, and they don’t like suburbanites. What is it they don’t like about suburbanites?

They?

Yeah, your people. This couple you’re writing about. “We . . .”

Did I say they were a couple? I don’t know if they’re a couple. They could be a bunch of people. They could be 100 people. Or just two.

Are they? Just two? Or one-hundred?

God, I don’t know. I guess they’re just two. A couple.

Old couple, young couple, gay couple, straight couple…

Is all this necessary? I don’t know what kind of couple. I guess I was thinking they were a straight couple.

Good. If it’s really what you intended. Young, old?

Young. I think they’re young. They have this cynical view of suburbanites…

Do you?

Do I what?

Have a cynical view of suburbanites.

I don’t think so. It depends on the suburbanites.

So this young couple doesn’t mirror your views?

Do they need to?

Not at all. What are their views?

Well, for one, they don’t like suburbanites.

But they’re going to become suburbanites themselves?

Yes. But that doesn’t mean they have to like it.

It?

Becoming suburbanites.

What don’t they like about suburbia?

The suburbanites.

Yes, we know that. Be specific.

It’s very shallow. Living in suburbia is very shallow.

How do you know?

Because I live there. In suburbia.

And you’ve looked about, in suburbia, and you’ve seen that life is shallow?

I have, yes.

Be specific.

People in suburbia watch reality shows on TV and drive SUV’s.

That makes them shallow? Don’t people in urban and rural areas also watch reality shows and drive SUV’s?

You’re missing my point.

Which is?

I don’t know, that people in suburbia are especially shallow, I guess.

How so?

Because they spend more time watching Reality shows on TV, and they drive more expensive SUV’’s than rural or urban people do.

You’re just winging it now, aren’t you?

(Sigh!) Okay, I’m winging it, but these aren’t my views, these are the views of the couple represented by “We.”

So you’re going to saddle this young couple with these preposterous views? Isn’t that going to make them a bit unlikable? Especially to suburbanites? And to people who think?

Are you differentiating between the two, Mr. Muse?

The two what?

Suburbanites and people who think. Are you saying suburbanites are people who don’t think?

Of course not. I know what I’m saying. I always know what I’m saying. You forget—I’m the muse! (big grin)

So you think it’s necessary for this couple to have views that aren’t preposterous.

If people are going to like them, yes.

Why do people need to like them?

Well, my God, man, do you want to read about people who aren’t likeable?

Why not? Unlikable people can be just as interesting as likeable people, sometimes even more so.

And you intend to portray this young, cynical couple, with their preposterous views, as interesting?

I can try. You forget—I’m the writer. You’re just the muse.

______________
T.M. Wright, estimable editor of Writer Online, will publish his 29th novel in June, “Cold House,” through Catalyst Press, NYC. He lives in Honeoye, NY, where he hopes for world peace, the cancellation of Bill O’Reilly, on the Fox Network, and a return to decorum on TV political gab fests.