Letter to My Muse

My dearest Thalia,

How was your summer vacation? Did you backpack through Prague like you were telling me you wanted to? I bet you danced your nights away with handsome European men, sipping sweet wine and nibbling at cheese and whatever else you could get your hands on. You know, I was quite worried about you, considering I didn't so much as receive a post card letting me know that you were still breathing. REALLY?! Would it have been so hard to send a tiny bit of inspiration my way?!

That's beside the point now. You've returned home relaxed and tanned with a carefree smile still plastered on your perfect lips. Do you want to hear about my summer? Well it was spent painfully trying to pry ideas out of my tired mind. You see, you've left me with nothing for over two months now. I learned how to Vlog *snort*, discovered that Tiffany can eat a disgusting amount of goldfish crackers in one sitting and developed an affinity for making playlists for stories that I just couldn't seem to write without you.

I guess I can forgive you given the fact that you woke me up very early a couple mornings ago with the present you brought me back from your little vacation... a new idea. Perhaps we need a break from each other every once in awhile... but if you EVER think of pulling an Edward on me again for more than a week, WARN ME at the very least. *whispers* Or take me with you. Otherwise I will cut off your access to thesixtyone.com FOR-EEEVVV-AAAARRRR.

*Glares* I mean it you deranged little water nymph.

Glad to have you back.
Love
Me

PS: BTW I SO heart your fishnets....

On a serious note, what do you do when your Muse leaves you hanging?