This morning around 7:30 while still asleep, I felt a slight tapping on my subconscious: “Hey, get up. You gonna sleep all day or what?” It was my muse, finally reporting for work.
Until now, I never had a firm handle on my muse. I had an idea it might be a woman; it was too temperamental and too coy to be a man. But this morning, as my muse ordered me to get my fat ass out of bed and get to work, I recognized the voice immediately.
My muse is Selma Diamond … and she, apparently, reads my blog.
Ms. Diamond, for those of you too young to remember, was a wonderful character actress with a raspy, grating voice and bulldog manner. In the last year of her life she played Selma Hacker, a bailiff on the hilarious TV sitcom Night Court. She died in 1985.
So this morning, with barely enough time to pee and wash my face and no time to make coffee, I found myself at my computer pounding out Mother Mayhem, driven by the ghost of a woman dead twenty years, a cigarette dangling from her lips.
65 days and counting .