November 5, 2014 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story inspired by your muse. It can be about a muse, about longing for a muse or being thwarted by a muse. It can be serious or a-musing. It can be prose or poetic. Whatever you and your muse agree upon.
From about mid-October to waaaaaay past mid-November our lives, and that would be me and my angelic wee doggies, Merlin & Pippin, are blighted by nasty loud bangs. So, it’s been a difficult couple of weeks, this last weekend being the worst. My poor little Merlin hasn’t been well either, but the vet and I think she’s on the mend now, which is the best feeling in the world. It struck me only today that I began researching the history and archaeology for the Merlin’s Gambit trilogy at about the same time that I first brought my girlies home. I’m not sure now which Merlin came first, the Westie or the Wizard! Nor can I be sure which one became my muse first. What I do know is that both of them sit at this desk with me while I’m writing: one Merlin under the desk on a pillow with a fluffy blanket for a cover, the other right inside my head watching the words as they spill out onto the Scrivener/blog page. I’ll let you decide which one is which.
I’ve written a lot of Merlin’s part in Book One of Earth Magic over the past week, and this 99 word flash fragment comes as a timely reminder to readers of how deep his Druidic roots grow. It comes at the end of a startling revelation that has even Merlin lost for words, and, trust me, that never happens! It’s a moment in which all the above candidates – and I’m loving that Thalia and Urania are standing next to each other wearing green and purple – would find themselves in pretty stiff competition with his real Muse, whose identity you are about to discover:
Merlin Learns the Truth
“… To me, only two characters in the play of these events are blessed with anything approaching sense …” After this oration I stop for breath, or perhaps just for peace. Elbows on knees, hands outstretched, as if in supplication to my almost full Moon Mother, I lift my face to her and receive her cool Wisdom as a breath of her Spirit. She shows me the way, she always does, yet it’s cloudy and needs to take shape a while. I’m not conscious of having stopped speaking, not really. Not until he speaks, my old friend.
“And who are they?”
If this fragment has whetted your appetite for more of Merlin, you’ll have to watch the Blogging My Book posts as they roll off the blog. The scene this latest piece comes from will be posted on Thursday of next week as Scene Ten, so not long to wait.
And if you have enjoyed reading this snippet of time-travelling Merlin and his protracted moonlight adventures, perhaps you’d like to receive Automatic Reminders of further posts (once I figure out how to make it work, that is!), you can Subscribe using the box underneath, and there may well be another one in the sidebar on the right. Once you’ve signed up, please do let me know if you don’t get posts every week, though, as I really haven’t figured out if it works and I’d like to know if it doesn’t so I can try and put it right!
Brightest Blessings, as always,
PS: I hope no one had any difficulty deciding which Merlin was which; I may have difficulty getting my white fluffy Merlin into my head, although sometimes I swear she’d like to try. Conversely, I suppose it could be the case that there’s very little to stop Merlin the Wizard from rolling around in all that empty space 🙂