Sunday, August 19, 2012

Whisper in my ear - a horror writer's muse

Writers talk about their muses, and hey, I say if you've got one, good on you. I spend far too much effort plotting and scheming and re-plotting and rewriting and editing and editing and editing and editing... to believe there's a muse helping me tell my tale. I know where my stories come from -- my warped little brain. There's no muse for me. No way, no how.

Then this little fellow was captured in a picture of me at my desk during a plotting session for my work-in-progress.

Hmmm. Not exactly the image of a muse I see other writers envisioning for themselves, but the little bugger does seem to be whispering in my ear, doesn't he? And I do appear to be listening. Hmmm.

Okay, back to it. WE have plotting to do.

Saturday, August 11, 2012

Side jobs for gargoyles

Gargoyles were originally used as water spouts. They shot rainwater that accumulated on the roof out away from the building so it wouldn't run down masonry walls and erode the mortar. *yawn* My gargoyles have a much more important and serious job. They watch (always!) and protect. They're also fun to hang with, as I showed about a year ago in my Horror Author's got Posse blog post.

I'm convinced one of my gargoyles, Targ, did a bit of modeling on the side and posed for the cover of my novel, Dark Knowledge. I mean...come on. Here's a photo of Targ next to the cover that the good folks at Etopia Press designed. Coincidence? I think not.

But I don't mind the gargoyles working jobs on the side. How could I mind when they're always so willing to do side jobs for me? 

Why just this morning, a very humid and warm one, I returned from a run completely soaked with sweat. I was too hot and tired to squat in the sun until my clothes dried, but thanks to my good-hearted gargoyle buds, I didn't have to. First Emmett, vigilant overseer of the pool and an expert at squatting in the sun, volunteered to wear my cap until it dried. 

Good ol' Emmett. He's often the first to volunteer for anything. 

Then Targ, who lurks in the garden and watches the yard (and who I suspect also models for book cover artists) stepped up. He refused to wear my sweaty shirt because he's got a thing about keeping his wings unfettered, but he agreed to hold it in his teeth. I'm hoping the aftertaste won't be too bad. 

Personally, I think sweet little Igor, guardian of the patio area, got the worst deal by offering to dry my socks on his head, but he smiled the entire time. I guess gargoyles don't have a well-developed sense of smell. At least Igor doesn't. 

So there you have it, reason #83 why it's good to have gargoyles -- they cheerfully help you dry sweaty athletic clothes when you're too tired to squat in the sun.