Muse Search
Where do you go to find your muse?
New! Poems For A Platypus
A platypus is an amazing creature whose habitat is fading, but they do like Bylina’s poems and haiku. Come read their favorites.
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One Promise Too Many
Now available. For his first case, Detective Roger Stark has 42 hours to find a kidnapped child, but his adversary plays by a different set of rules and continually raises the stakes until someone has to pay the price.
A Matter of Faith
Now available. Does Faith Moreno's romantic pursuit of a young priest help Detective Stark bring a murderer to justice or just mark Faith as the next victim?
All Of Our Secrets
Available now. His wife's secret past and a relentless detective hinder Bruce Neumanski from establishing his innocence and rebuilding his life after her death. Inspired by a real-life mystery.
Bathroom Reading--Short Stories for Short Visits
A collection of flash fiction and short stories that can make you cry, laugh, scratch your head, or relieve your constipation in a matter of minutes.
About Me
- Rick Bylina
- Apex, NC, United States
- Friends encouraged me to create a web presence, so I have. Novel excerpts, book reviews, and whatever tumbles out of my head and onto the blog. Literary greatness inspires me, but mysteries rule my novels. Validation of my writing journey through publication is what I seek.
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Notes at the end of the world.
"There is nothing so much to be feared as fear itself." - Thoreau
"There is nothing to fear, but fear itself." - Roosevelt
"Be afraid. Be very afraid." - Wednesday Addams
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Carrie is the person with whom I share my favorite meal - steak, mashed potatoes, and corn with sauteed onions & mushrooms followed by chocolate ice cream.
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This is the end of the blog. Go back to writing. Seriously! Edit that story.
9 comments:
She can't be found, dammit. But when she's ready she stalks me. Scary dude, my muse.
Rick, I love the Turkey City Lexicon you posted to below. Thanks for doing that for us.
You're welcome. My muse is hiding under the covers somewhere dealing with RLS, sheets and blankets askew, alarm clock turned off, shades drawn against the noontime sun, refusing to budge, tap me on the head and supply the shove necessary to inspire. So I go it alone. Tap, tap, tap against the silent computer keys that don't hint at the effort to anyone listening in the other room. Computers are faster, but deaf to progress.
silent computer keys that don't hint at the effort to anyone listening in the other room
lol, so sadly true. The good part is that they also don't give us away when we're playing computer games,although a perceptive (or suspicious) spouse could detect the difference.
My muse? Jimmy Buffett. Or at least his music. When he's playing in the background, I remember that there's more to life than gray skies and deadlines and bills and heartbreak. There's sunshine and tiki bars and margaritas out there somewhere, and I need to focus on the happy, good stuff. Only then do the words flow, because I'm centered in fun, rather than woe.
My muse, Olga, shows up when she pleases. Then she toys with me — sometimes flicking her bullwhip, more often bouncing paper wads off the inside of my skull, until I sit down and do her bidding.
Sometimes, if the story is there but isn't coming out to the keyboard, a certain amount of rum can be a mental Ex-Lax. The proper dose varies from person to person, but more than 3 shots risks serious impairment of keyboarding in my experience. Other distilled liquors may be substituted according to taste, of course.
Thanks for the Turkey City link, I'll stick that in my del.icio.us pile for later.
I generally find my muse about half way down a pitcher of iced tea. Once that caffeine hits, I can't type fast enough!
Mine sometimes takes l-o-n-g vacations, shows up unexpectantly, and then leaves again. She came back yesterday and I got a lot of work done. I hope she shows up again today.
Ohhhh, I hate those long vacations the muse takes. Maybe you can get some iced tea (though where you live it better be hot buttered rum) and entice the muse to reappear.
In the shower, groggy from just waking up, as the water washes over me, so do the words and ideas. Trouble is the paper shreds when I try to write them down.
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