When I open the curtains, I swear. I knew the weather wonks had mentioned snow showers up north, but I’d hoped they were wrong.
Nope, they were right. My first morning at my long-awaited writing retreat, and it snowed. At least I’m not planning to go anywhere today. Tomorrow is another story; I’ve got a panel tomorrow morning about 1 1/2 hrs away. An interruption in my gloriously quiet four days of solitude.
Oh well. I fire up the coffee maker and brew up a pot of Caribou Coffee, a nice change from the store-brand coffee we have at home (yes, store-brand–no coffee snobs in our house, just frugal). Then I settle in with my laptop for a day of revision.
What the hell? I did not just hear that knock.
“G’morning, love. Oi, open the door.”
Ahem, that’s weird. He only uses doors because I told him that whole popping in thing is just showing off.
Not like that’s ever stopped him.
“This better be good,” I shout back at him as I head to the door.
My Muse is standing on the other side of the door, MN Vikings stocking cap on his head and hands tucked into the pockets of his leather bomber jacket. Beside him are two women, one blond and about my height and age, the other a taller brunette a little older than my son, her coat stretched over her abdomen.
You have got to be kidding. I unlock the door and glare at my Muse. “You were supposed to be here last night when I got in. What the hell are you doing?”
“You’ve heard of having lunch with your characters, right? Here they are. You can have coffee, since it smells like you just made a fresh pot.” He pushes past me. “Come on in, ladies.”
“Dude, there’s no room here.” Heck, there aren’t even enough chairs to go around. The table might seat four with enough chairs, but it’d be tight. Besides, I’m using one of the two existing chairs as a luggage stand.
“No worries, love.” My Muse waves a hand and two more chairs appear at the tiny table. He pulls the stool from under the teeny counter overhang in the kichenette and plants himself on it. “Have a seat, ladies.”
I close the door and plant my hands on the counter in front of my Muse. “What are you …”
“You said your agent told you their characters were still a little flat, so I brought them over.”
I don’t even try to stop my eyeroll. “Not when I’m on my writing retreat. You are supposed to be helping me revise Book 2.”
He shoots me a grin, the divot in his chin deepening. “I am. I think the coffee’s ready.”
Arrrgh. I pour coffee for my characters, and think about making my Muse pour his own damn coffee.
When I set the coffee mug in front of the younger woman, she leans to me and whispers, “He’s your muse?”
“Muse, with a capital ‘M’. Yeah, since high school.”
Her eyes widen. “He is so hot!”
“Connie,” her mother scolds, then grins. “She’s right.”
“Don’t tell him. He’s got enough of an ego the way it is.”
“I believe it. Now, he said you needed to get to know us a little better.”
“Look, Anna, he sometimes does things …”
She pats my hand. “He told us what you need, and we’re here to help. Now, do you want to talk about my Ed? My Ed would have liked you, too.”
Well, since they’re here, I might as well “have coffee” with them. “Actually, tell me how you really would have handled the whole thing.”
Well, a nice change from my last visit to the Shire in the Woods is that they changed internet providers. It’s still a little flaky, but waaay better than it was this spring, hence the blog post 🙂 It’s a little break from my revisions, which I’m determined to finish before I head home on Monday.
Hope you all have a wonderful weekend!