Eugie Foster (eugie) wrote,
Eugie Foster

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My muse is a crack whore

Matthew and I were discussing the nature of my muse, and we came to the conclusion that she is a skanky crack whore. In all likelihood, this is a new state for her. She was probably at one time all la-la-la gossamer skirts and Grecian sandals. But because of me calling upon her to perform at all hours and getting her hooked on various and sundry stimulants (caffeine and sugar) and depressants (clonazepam), she is now a twitchy, buzzing, withdrawal-hopped ho in torn fishnet stockings and streaky make-up. She refuses to put out unless I get her flying on caffeine or chocolate, and she becomes surly and uncooperative at the least provocation.

It has not been a good writing day. 700 new words, and that was only after most of a pot of coffee. I feel queasy and headachy now.

In better news, while surfing for inspiration (rotten muse) I stumbled across another review of Hitting the Skids in Pixeltown by Rich Horton at the Speculative Literature Foundation that singles me and some of my fellow antho authors out for praise:

"Hitting the Skids in Pixeltown is a collection of stories by winners of the Phobos contest for short fiction . . . Best was a story by the fine new writer David D. Levine, 'Ukaliq and the Great Hunt', American Indian legends transposed to a new world. Also worth noting were stories by Eugie Foster, Carl Frederick, and Paul Pence."

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