I've been wondering lately if I have a muse. I know, like, as a writer I should totally know if I have a muse or not. Honestly, I never gave it much thought, this muse thing. I didn't even know I was supposed to have one until I was at one of the monthly meetings I attended for writers in my area.

And thou shalt have a muse.

They spoke, my muse? He/She/It, yeah, they didn't listen. How just like me.

I started thinking. Do I have this one thing, this muse, which provides me with all my artistic inspiration? Haha...artistic...yeah that's me...anyway...I didn't think I did.

At least I don't have this one thing that talks to me. Heck, my characters don't even talk to me at least not in the sense that I have some authors tell me. You know, that scary ass I sat down and had a tea party with all my female characters. That, my friend, creeps me out more than just a little.

Certainly it's not any of my ex boyfriends. The last thing I want is to draw inspiration from that end of the gene pool. I mean, that's why they are 'ex'...bless their hearts.

So, I've been feeling a little down about not having a muse; all sad and stuff. I mean, I want one. All of my friends have them. Then I realized...I must have one. Perhaps several, but no matter the story ideas keep coming and that has to be from Bob, my muse right? (Bob's a horrible name but that's what we're going with until he/she/it tells me otherwise)

Yeah, so the great thing...any negative crap I get from my critique partners...that's all Bob. Your pages sucked. Yeah, I know. It was Bob.