Mitch the Muse

A Story by OneWhiteTIger

The first question everyone asks an author is, "Where do you get your ideas?" This is where I get mine.

When I was young, about twelve or so, I made a wonderful friend. He wasn't a conventional friend. He was in all of my classes, but not as a student or teacher. He wasn't aware of social stigma or trying to keep up with what was popular.

His name is Mitch. He is my muse. I have a lot to tell you about him, but I will start with the fun stuff first! Mitch is only about three inches tall. He looks a little like a troll doll. You might remember those. They were popular in the '90s. He is tougher though and wears a little tunic and breeches in a light tan color. His hair doesn't stick straight up like a troll doll, either. It is shoulder length and copper red.

He is an ornery little thing. He gives me so much grief. He is aggravated that his wonderful ideas have to flow through my pen because he is too small to hold one. He grumbles all the time. I think I saw him smile one time. That's all, just once since I was twelve. He smiled when I finished the book, Shannon's Life.

He is quite brilliant. The ways he can twist the hook of a story; legendary. His way with words; astonishing. He constantly churns out ideas; some old and reworked and some original and breathtaking.

He is funny to watch when he is brainstorming. He will wander down my arm to pace around on my desk. When he is done pacing, he wanders back up my arm to take his place on my right shoulder.

He deserves his fifteen minutes of fame; his own piece of stardom. He is the little voice which whispers in my ear and gives me all the stunning motivation I need to write for "our" fans!

He is my friend; my inspiration; my muse.