At about 4 AM today the Muse came back from whatever holiday Muses go on and informed me that I needed to get up and work on the book, A wonderful idea, I thought at the time, little realising that by 8 AM I would be sorely missing the 3 hours of sleep I had sacrificed for so noble a cause, but then that's what I write about...sacrifice, though in this case, with the day I am facing, I would have rather parted with blood.
Did the Muse dictate to me wonderful words of inspiration? No, What I got in stead was a reprimand for choosing a name for one of my characters which I had used for another character in the previous book.
"But that;s what he told me his name was," I protested sleepily as I opened the first chapter and set up the command to find and replace his name.
"You obviously were not listening well. His name is not Gavin, It is Gareth."
So Gavin became Gareth in all 31 chapters I had written to date and the whole experience set me to worrying about the fact that his lady love is named Gwyneth and the similarity of the names which might cause confusion in the reader,
"Balderdash!: said the Muse, or something to that effect, "Good Welsh name. Lots of "th" sounds in Welsh names. Now get some rest. You will be needing it."
In the background I heard the radio alarm clock going off and knew it was too late to do more ta do more than pop a handful of dark chocolate covered espresso beans into my mouth and hope for the best.
"Nine tanna leaves to give it motion," came the memory of a line from "The Mummy", unbidden into the embers of consciousness I needed to fan into a bright enough fire to get me through the day.
Nine tanna leaves and a cup of good, strong tea.
I may not be awake, but at least I am civilised.