Chapter 14: The Evolved Muse

usion.

“Did someone just evolve me?” A voice said near the start of last chapter’s next chapter. The voice could best be described as nondescript.

“Yes,” I said to the voice. I couldn’t make out what she looked like. “What do you look like?” I asked.

“Watch,” she said.

I watched, and waited to see what I would write.

Slowly, as I typed, I could see her. She straightened up. I saw her come into focus, the tall, slim, olive skinned woman with flashing dark eyes I’d been inspired to create, dressed stylishly in the Eileen Fisher bat-wing sleeve rum-berry sweater and a fraise Rachel Roye pencil skirt I’d been inspired to dress her in. She sat in the black Prouvé Cité Armchair that I’d been inspired to place her in, kicked off the Yves Saint Laurent Tribute Platform Sandals that my inspiration had chosen for her, curled the long, tanned legs I’d imagined for her under her, removed the France Luxe Mini Oval hair clip I’d created and let down the long flowing jet black hair I’d imagined her having. She unbuttoned the top button of her Ralph Lauren ruffled silk blouse that inspiration said was perfect for her, and smiled at me.

“See what a muse can inspire?” She asked, her newly inspired voice a lovely contralto.

I saw.

I’d effortlessly produced a 129 word description, before editing, of the muse I’d evolved. Without her inspiration I’d have written something like “The muse was hot,” or “She was dressed nice.” This was so very much better. And so many more words!

Now I knew I’d not only write 50,000 words and win NaNoWriMo, but my book wouldn’t suck and the Publisher would publish my book. I’d be a Published author. I could go to more cocktail parties and get more phone numbers on napkins. My plan was working!

But little did I know that other plans were also working, and they were working against me.