Conversation with my Muse.

"So you want to write a poem on how beautiful it all is" She waved her hands expansively trying to include the colorful scene.

"No, A poem would be sort of inappropriate for this setting. You know a poem does not kind of fit in Disneyland. I was thinking more along the lines of a little opinion piece. Or maybe something funny. You know biting sarcasm about conferences and such like." I said

"Or maybe an academic paper" She said, There was something in her tone I did not like at all.

"But, that is not your work." I protested "Academic papers, I don't think you provide inspiration for those"

"Well I could. But you have to listen you your professor" She hissed out the s's. "And that insipid Balderash- citations and references and Theory of this that and the other."

"Well it is my work" I countered. "That's how I feed myself"

"Yeah even though no one reads it. Not those guys at the conference, they are much too busy trying to explain how wonderful they are and the research they are doing" She sneered.

"Yes, but this is not about that at all."I tried to veer the subject of the conversation away.

"Oh no, its about your popular writing." She said

I nodded

"Which you cannot do without me" She had me there- worse, she knew it.

"Yes, what could I do without you" I murmured , seething inwardly.

"Not much, at least not much in the shape of readable stuff. We all know what your "academic stuff" reads like." Abuse is the very least you have to tolerate from your muse.

"So then can we begin work on something interesting" I asked.

"What do you take me for? McDonalds? Readable pieces on demand- any way you like them, with Fries and a large order of Coke" She snapped.

"No " I smiled" Something more sophisticated"

"Like a shortish extra sarcastic steaming hot story latte?" She said pointing witheringly at my Starbucks chai.

"Well if that works" I tried to play along.

"You ain't getting it no more" She said

"But…"

"But what? There are no buts. You want to write, you want to be witty and amusing and all that. Well I am not going to inspire you. I don't want to" she declared.

"But why?"

"Because I quit."

"you cannot quit"

"Oh can't I?"

"How can a muse quit?" I asked

"Like this" she said and shrugged her shoulders.

"But, but…"

"Well Subsection 3(i) of Section 4678 of the Muse job contract says I can quit anytime. Under these conditions"

"Section whata whata of the whata whata?"I stuttered.

"Now you will tell me you do not know there is a contract"

"There is?" I asked

"Oh yes. To prevent depletion of Muse resources- inspiration resources, we had these designed. Specially since with the internet and all , these people were pouring out their creativity in blogs and such like."

"So , you are on strike"

"No , sweety, I quit"

"But why"

"Unreasonable demands. Too little recognition."

"But what is a reasonable demand"

"Agreeing to a poem when I say so. Poem, villanelle, Haiku, whatever. "

"And recognition. How can one recognize a muse? Do I write poetry for you, like every one else is doing?"

"Well, no. You cannot ape the others and think I will be placated. But you can put me on a salary"

"A salary. How will I pay you?"

"The same as everyone else gets paid. Two paychecks a month"

"I can barely make both ends meet"

"Yeah, if you keep blowing money buying Teeshirts at Disneyland, you cannot"

"It is only this once."

"Have I forgotten those expensive shoes back in Dallas"

"You keep tabs on me"

"I need to know you, it says here in Subsection 1a of Section 3b, its within my rights"

"Salary and what else" I asked

"Benefits"

"Benefits" I wailed.

"Yup ,medical and dental and three holidays a year on Christmas, New Year and Shakespeare's birthday"

"Benefits and Holidays?"

"You do not need to parrot everything I say"

"Be fair"

"Of course I am. Do you know Pragya's muse bought a Ferrari? She is treated really well."

"But, I cannot hire you. And pay you. I can hardly work full time here myself"

"Then you can do without writing"

And she huffed off.