Facets of a Muse

Examining the guiding genius of writers everywhere

Musing Mysteries – Part 4


“Are you ready for the next item on the list, love?”

I close the door to my writer’s writing office, but the place is deserted.

Where the hell is she? “Julie.” She must be out back.

A window appears in the back door, showing a serene view of the lake, dark blue under the brilliant almost-spring sky. The Adirondack chairs are empty. I leave the quiet of the office and pass into the hushed environs of the lake and its surrounds. Nothin’. There’s just enough of a breeze to hint that the balmy weather–if you consider 40 degrees F balmy–will be short-lived.

Where the feck is she? “Julie?”

*She’s not here.*

“No shit.”

Her damn book-dragon backwings onto the path between me and the lake, sunlight giving her scales sparkles like a first grader gone nuts with the glitter. She lowers her head and peers at me with glowing red eyes. *If you know, then why are you still looking for her?*dragon1_cr

“Because she’s supposed to be here. We’re supposed to be going over her presentation for the conference. She’s supposed to be working on revising the plot for Book 2.”

*Did you look for a note?*

A note? “Why would she leave me a note? She never leaves me a note.” She just bloody disappears.

*Did you look?*

“I’ve known her a lot longer than you have.” Fecking junior muses always think they know more than you do. “She doesn’t leave notes. She just goes off to do who knows what, then shows up whenever she feels like it.”

*Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?*

I narrow my eyes. “Are you trying to say something?”

The dragon shrugs her massive shoulders. *She said to tell you she knows the next items on the list, and she will spare you the whole mis-direction part of the clues. You can thank her later.* She turns, spreads her sparkly green wings, and shoves off, climbing out over the lake.

Damn writers. No, my damn writer. I head back to the writing office. Julie never leaves notes. I suppose that dragon had a point, but I’m a Muse, with a capital ‘M’. I’ve been doing this gig long enough; I don’t need to …

Sure as shit, there’s a sheet of paper folded on the seat of one of the recliners. I grab a brew from the friggie before I read it:

If you found this note, it means I’m not there.

Yeah, no shit. So where are you?

Nice of you to show up when I’m not there. Timing. It’s about timing, and sometimes yours sucks.

Don’t hold back, love.

Figured I’d repay the favor. Check the top desk drawer if you really want to know where I am. And check the treat basket. And I was going to go all sneaky on the clues, but dammit, I’m tired, and I’m working on the new plot. Otherwise, I should be back tomorrow. I’d sign my name, but you know who I am. πŸ˜›

What the feck? Why wouldn’t she just tell me where she’s at? I’m by the recliners, so I check the basket first. Chocolate. More chocolate. Pickled peppers. Popcorn. A small envelope of flower seeds–forget-me-nots.

Flower seeds? She doesn’t grow flowers, at least not unless she’s got extra seed. I dig around more, but that’s about it besides more chocolate. And a bottle opener.

I toss the seed packet on the desk and pull open the center drawer. Pens. Pencils. Sticky notes. Highlighters. A picture of her niece and some guy. They look happy. I toss that on the desk beside the flower seeds. Index cards. Nothing else that shouldn’t be here.

The top desk drawer on the side holds her backup drive, about four notebooks–what is it with writers and their notebooks? Some writing book about emotional stuff by Donald Maass. The keyboard for her iPad. An invitation.

It’s a wedding invitation, but this one is dated the end of the month. We just started the month.

I check the picture on the desk again. Her niece and the guy. The flower seeds. A fancy flower seed packet now that I look at it.

Bloody hell.

I check the calendar on the wall beside the door. Her niece–the one in the picture–is getting married. Today. Julie’s going to a wedding today.

Fecking lovely. She couldn’t just let me know?

Fine. I drop into a recliner and get comfortable. The bullwhip looks nice on top of the desk. Maybe I’ll add the fedora for effect. If she thinks she can come back later and mosey her way back to work, she’s greatly mistaken.

Hey, what are you still doing here? Julie’s gone today, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to entertain you. Besides, your muses called. Get your butts in your chairs and WRITE!

Oh, and have a good weekend.

Author: Julie Holmes, author

A fiction writer since elementary school (many years ago), and NaNoWriMo annual participant for over a decade, I have been published in small press magazines such as "Fighting Chance" and "The Galactic Citizen". I write adult mystery with a touch of romance, mystery with extrasensory elements, contemporary fantasy, and epic fantasy, and I'm represented by the fabulous Cynthia Zigmund of Second City Publishing Services. My debut novel, "Murder in Plane Sight", has been released by Camel Press (an imprint of Coffeetown Press/Epicenter Press). In real life, I am a technical writer and empty-nester with a wonderful hubby, one cat (what writer doesn't have cats??), two dogs, six chickens, and more chipmunks, squirrels, and rabbits than any garden should have to deal with. My garden, our hobby farm, and Nature's annual seasons are some of my muses.

23 thoughts on “Musing Mysteries – Part 4

  1. Have a fecking beautiful day, birch πŸ˜‰

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Our muses would really get along:)

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Junior muses added? What a great thought, Julie! Smiling!! Enjoyed this. πŸ“š Christine

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Hilarious. Love it. Love it. Especially love when the two muses get into it with each other. Great job, Julie. I hope you’re enjoying the wedding!

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Enjoy the wedding, Julie.
    I love the way that dragon uses her ancient dragon wisdom of that Muse of yours.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Hey, Mr. E. here. Good job covering while your author is out at the wedding, I stepped up to the plate the last few days too, inspiring Mae to pump out 10K. She’s been struggling and I figured with all the pub crawling days, it was due. There’s a new brewery on the muse circuit so hopefully Mae and Julie can manage on their own for a while, Seems to me you owe me a game of darts.

    Liked by 1 person

    • G’day, mate! Was wondering where you’d gone off to. Great job with your writer; wish mine was as industrious. She’s off on the right foot, though. I’m gonna need a crawl after I get her pushing words.

      Tell Mae nice cover from me. Looks like you’ve got your work cut out with the new Hode’s Hill series. I’m all for that dart game–I need it after this weekend. Meet you at the new place, same time.

      Liked by 1 person

  7. Great post and I like the idea of your Muse getting some of his own medicine … I hope you’ve had a wonderful time at the wedding and brilliant break from everything. Come back refreshed! Oh, and as your muse is on all our cases, I best get writing!! πŸ˜€πŸ˜ƒ

    Liked by 1 person

    • LOL! I figured it was time he had a chance to ‘enjoy’ my writer experience. I mean, serves him right πŸ˜€ The wedding was nice and short and fit the newlyweds’ personalities. We had fun. One down, one more to go on Easter weekend (bonus: we don’t have to host the family Easter gathering πŸ˜‰ )

      Have a great writing week!

      Liked by 1 person

  8. Your muse never lets up, does he, Julie? And when he can’t find you, he starts in on us – your readers. LOL! And junior muses. Who knew those existed? You’d think if you have a hierarchy of them I could find just one of these beasts!

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Fine. But it’s always nice to play hooky here. πŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

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