My muse no longer trusts me.
That is the great truth I’ve recently come to accept.
Now, to explain it all, I need to back up, because although authors often talk about their muses, the truth is, I’d never given much attention to mine. I’d never put a face to it. I never really even acknowledged it. And in ignoring it, and ignoring the environment in which it lived, I very nearly lost it.
It’s maybe ironic that so many authors talk about “plot bunnies”, because in the last two days, that is the image I’ve come to associate with my muse: a rabbit. A small, white rabbit, in a meadow, surrounded by the forest. In the beginning, he was brave and playful, unaware of what lurked in the woods.
Am I being too strange? Let me back up yet again.
When I wrote Promises, I knew nothing about this genre. Yes, I’d read a few gay romances, but I didn’t realize how big (and at the same time, how small) the genre is. I’d never heard of Goodreads, or Jessewave or any of the other sites that would later become part of the landscape of my life. I was only vaguely aware of ebooks. I’d never even heard of Samhain or Loose Id. When I finished Promises, I pulled the m/m books off of my shelf and checked the back cover to see who had published them: MLR Press, Torquere, and Dreamspinner. When Dreamspinner accepted Promises, I had no idea what I was getting into.
Fast forward a few months. I’m fumbling my way around this vast cyberworld that both makes up and encompasses my genre. My bunny is playing happily in his meadow, and I’m churning out stories at a stupid pace. A to Z, One More Soldier, The Letter Z, and Strawberries for Dessert all just fell into place. And I continue on, venturing deeper into the woods, unaware of the little bunny behind me.
I can’t really say for sure when I became aware of the wolves, but they’re there. Maybe the wolves take different forms for different people, but for me, they’re multi-faced and multi-faceted. They’re all over this m/m cyberworld. Some of them spend their days bitching endlessly about this genre, but the worst of them are the ones who turn on each other out of nothing more than boredom or the need to try to prove themselves the Alpha. They’re the ones who want everybody to be a wolf.
But some of us just aren’t.
Not far from my house is a big open field, and in it, there are tons of prairie dogs. Last Memorial Day weekend, the city decided to fill in their holes. Hapless prairie dogs were suddenly scurrying through our neighborhood, with no place to go. Unfortunately for one, during our Memorial Day barbecue, he found himself in my yard with my very large dog. We looked out the sliding glass door to see my dog whipping the poor little thing around his head like a ragdoll. It was bloody and horrifying and really rather brutal.
I share this disturbing image with you now because this is what my rabbit saw when he finally looked out into the woods: wolves tearing other little critters apart. He found this inexplicable violence random, meaningless, and utterly horrifying.
And me? Yes, I was aware of the wolves, but I didn’t think they had anything to do with my muse. I assured my bunny he was safe. The wolves could not touch him in the circle of his meadow. And he played on.
Fast forward again several months to early 2011. Somehow, the woods are taking over my little meadow. My bunny is scared, but I tell him it’s fine. The wolves push their way into what little of the clearing remains. I see them, their jaws snapping and their hackles raised, circling and snarling and salivating. And yet still, I tell my bunny, “It’s fine. They’re tame enough. They can’t hurt you.”
The thing is, I was wrong.
That image of my huge dog savaging the helpless prairie dog? That’s the image I have of what happened next. The wolves got to my bunny muse. They very nearly destroyed it.
Now, had I realized then what had happened, it might have been different. I might have taken cover with my muse. I might have nursed it back to health and convinced it that it would be fine. But that’s not what I did. I wasn’t aware enough of my muse to see what had happened. Instead, I railed against the environment. Why are the wolves there and why do they have to be so fierce? Why do we allow them? Why do some people bait them and feed them and even encourage them? Why do we bend over backward to accommodate them? Why should I have to put up with them at all?
I still don’t really know the answers to those questions. I suppose for some people, the wolves are fun. I suppose for some, the wolves themselves might be the muse. What I’ve come to realize for myself is that the answers are irrelevant. But my muse is not.
I once saw an SUV run over a squirrel. It wasn’t killed. Its back was broken, and it used its front paws to pull its broken little body out of the street and up into the grass where it lay, panting. And I sobbed for it.
That’s the image I have in my head for what happened next. My poor little muse pulled its broken and bloody body (without my help) into its hole. It burrowed down deep. It curled up. And it waited — not to heal, but to die. Because that was the only thing worth doing. What would be the point of healing? It could no longer stand the thought of venturing out of its hole. It could no longer trust me to keep the wolves at bay. It wanted nothing more than to cease to be.
If this all sounds melodramatic, all I can say is, it felt very real to me. It was February when my little bleeding muse took to his burrow. I spent a few months looking around, wondering stupidly where he’d gone. I spent a few more trying to reason with him. I’ve spent the last couple trying to patiently lure him out. Because although he longed so much to die, he didn’t get his wish. He lived on. And although here, in Colorado, winter draws near, in my bunny’s little meadow, it’s beginning to look like spring. The sun is warming the ground. The birds are singing. And my muse wonders if maybe, just maybe, he has enough strength and enough bravery to play.
I can’t keep assuring him. Words mean nothing. The only thing that matters is proving my intent, and my intent now is to make the meadow the secure.
What does that mean? It means not venturing into the woods. It means not baiting the wolves.
Yes Marie, we get it, you may say. But in real-world terms, WTF are you saying? What exactly does it mean to secure the meadow?
To a large extent, what it means is climbing into the burrow with my bunny. It means shutting off vast sections of my online life. It means not venturing into those areas where people tear my beloved genre apart like some defenseless prairie dog. It means not engaging with any of those people who seem to want nothing more than to prove that their muse is better than mine. Because the truth is, maybe their muse is better, but this poor little wounded, scarred, scared furtive bunny is mine. And I miss him. I think it’s time he remembered how to play.
Although I have not been attacked by these wolves, I have seen enough of it over the last little while that it’s hard not to get pissed off. It’s absolutely horrible. My muse was missing for slightly deferent reasons, but it all comes down to just that, “shutting off the online life.”
great post!
Thanks Kelly. The internet really does seem like a dangerous place some days.
Take care.
Thank you so much for this post. I hope to find a nice little burrow of my own, and, like you, my muse and I have to make that search all torn and bloodied and hope we hide well enough that they can’t sniff us out in even our safest of places. You are amazing and strong and an inspiration to me.
Thanks Rebecca. It’s a bit of an ongoing struggle, but it is getting better. Take care of yourself, and good luck.
Ugh! This really disturbs me that there are people out there who refuse to mind their own business! What happened to you do you and I’ll do me? I’m not a writer or a blogger or anything like that, I just like to read and it annoys me that these “wolves” want to prevent that because they have nothing better to do with their time than worry about what this or that author is doing or what sex they are. I didn’t even know things like this went on until about a month and a half ago when another author I read posted something similar about his troubles on Goodreads. It panicked me enough when he said he would no longer right in the m/m genre that I actually commented words of support, something I don’t usually do (commenting, not the words of support,
). I am a fan of your writing and I really hope you will continue to shake the haters off, because you have fans who love your work and who will support you vehemently in the face of negativity. I am offering my support and I am so glad that you will continue to do what makes you happy and not what make your critics happy. You are a great writer and that is all that matters so tell those haters to suck it! Eh hem, pardon my french, lol.
Thanks for your comment. It really is frustrating. I’m quite sure there is no other genre in literature where authors are asked not only disclose what’s between their legs and who’s in their bed, but also to somehow justify it. Obviously for myself, these issues are pretty straightforward (no pun intended), but for other people, these issues are much more complicated. And frankly, for all of us, these things should be OUR OWN DAMN BUSINESS. I think many of us have been disheartened to find that this genre which we thought was about acceptance is actually so full of hate.
All that being said, I do think the wolves are a minority. A very vocal minority, but a minority nonetheless. The best thing we can do is ignore them.
Also, I have high hopes that my bunny and I will find our groove again soon.
Thanks again!
I’m not sure I understand all of this, but your books are amazing and I look forward whatever stories you have yet to tell. I hope you find your safe place and can resume sharing your gift, which touches so many. It would be so sad to let the haters and hurters win.
Thanks Lisa!
Hi Marie,
I’m one of your fans and a wannabe writer. Thank you for your powerful post. It makes me cry because it really resonates with me, & I picture my Muse, a bunny, crawling into a hole to heal his wounds.
Thanks, Cleon. I hope all of the bunnies recover soon!
I’m just here to offer a hug.
I don’t even write, just play blog in the genre, and it just kills me to see what the wolves have done, are doing. I didn’t realize when I started my blog, I didn’t realize until recently how bad it was. It makes my heart so sad.
I hope your little bunny muse feels better soon.
Thanks, Amara. I appreciate that.
I’ve commented a few times here because I genuinely love your books. I dont want to come off like a stalker but after finishing each of your books, I always sit there and marvel at how easily you manage to pull me right into that world you built. Then I feel compelled to come say thank you. I don’t venture out much into the m/m online world so I haven’t encountered the wolves. I have a few blogs/sites I love to visit but otherwise I really just want to read a good book and find more of said good books. I do, however, know all about wolves in online settings. Many people seem to think its ok to say things online that they’d never say in person.
I’m glad your muse is still alive and kicking. I’ll be around, having your back and patiently awaiting any other loveliness you and your muse might come up with.
Thanks very much, Erika! I appreciate that.
Maybe I’m emo today or something, but this made me cry.
*hugs*
As a writer, I can totally relate to what you’re saying. This is one of the reasons why I’ve never bothered to go venturing out in a happy social fashion–and most likely never will. The writing is all that matters to me, and the rest of it is just business.
The wolves don’t see it that way, of course. It’s a high school popularity contest to them. Among other things. I never had any interest in that, and I doubt I ever will.
High school popularity contest is a good analogy. It can be exhausting.
Thanks very much for your support. The more of us who stand against them, the safer we all are.
Marie,
I’m sorry. After reading that, the only thing I can think to do is to apologize for the wolves because obviously, they will not apologize for themselves. The very vivid image of that broken bunny makes me want to cry. I really do hope he learns to play again. I don’t comment very often because I don’t want to be a rabid fan, but I will say that Promises is one of my absolute favourites. I have honestly liked every one of your books. Some I loved, and others I just really liked. But they were all pretty terrific. And I think Heidi is pretty great too. I check in to your blog and to Cup of Coffee and Porn pretty regularly. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve read things you two have written about stuff you’ve done or books your working on or upcoming events and thought “Man I wish I could do what they do, they look like they’re having so much fun”. I really hope you/your bunny continue to have fun. The things you write, they pictures you all post, they make me smile and laugh. Many times, you and Heidi have made my day brighter. That means the world to me and I gotta figure if you can do it for me then you do it for others too. So quite frankly, and to be a little crass; The Wolves can just go F**K themselves.
LOL. Thanks, Nix! I appreciate that!
Oh Marie. I have commented a few times on your website and a couple other places you might have seen but for the most part I am a lurker. I like to sit back and wait for the next thing you produce. I refuse to be that annoying fan that bugs you for the next thing and then the next thing and so on. So, however long it takes you to nurse the muse I will still be here, ever patient. I know what it means to come back from a hurt/betrayal/wound and it can’t be rushed. Should you need anything, please let us know. I will come out of my own little hole if I can be of any help.
Thank you so much, Sabrina! That’s so nice! Having just finally put the whole thing into perspective has made a world of difference. Giving my bunny a face and name, if that makes sense. And the support I’ve had from readers, and from other writers, has been really great. I appreciate it so much.
Thanks again!
Just remember that you have readers who will always have your back against the wolves. I hate it that they are there but I will do anything to help keep them at bay. I love your stories and would hate for those little minded people to tarnish their beauty and meaning.
Thank you so much for that! I really appreciate it.
Just wanted you to know that your stories and characters are delightful and make me feel happy when I read (and re-read) them. I read A LOT and you are one of my favorite authors.
Don’t let the wolves get to you. They are few (hopefully) and we, your faceless, quiet masses of loyal readers, love your work!
Thanks so much, Ginny! That means a lot!
So, between this and Heidi’s recent post, it may seem as if we’re talking about some recent, specific incident. I just want to say, that’s really and truly not the case. The incidents which threatened my bunny so much happened ages ago, at the beginning of the year. For myself, the only thing that’s happened recently is that I created this symbolic framework of the bunny and the wolves to help me put it into perspective. Heidi’s post may appear to be related to mine but, believe it or not, any similarity is highly coincidental. My intent with this post was merely to declare my determination to protect my bunny. It was in no way my intent to feed or bait the wolves.
I think Angelo needs a talk with your bunny. “What the fuck ever, little guy. Remember that.”
I just wanted you to know that I am a one of your readers. I guess I am called a lurker. I read your books. I enjoy your books. I read your blogs. I visit your websites. I enjoy you as an author, but I like being an anonymous reader. I don’t have an overwhelming desire to blather on and on about what I have read. I honestly just want to read quality stories like yours. So just keep on being you and take care of your bunny because anonymous readers such as myself will ignore the bitchery and the nastiness and just continue to quietly read and enjoy your stories.
Thanks very much, Ginger. That means a great deal, and it’s a good reminder of why I’m really here. What I really want is just to write, and stay away from so much of the other stuff that goes on. It’s good for me to be reminded of that fact.
Thanks very much for reading!
I don’t venture out much into the vast internet. I have my safe areas and I fight to keep the wolves out. Some people think I am mean for doing that, I guess. But I know that wolves come in packs. There is never just one wolf.
Be safe. Love yourself and your muse.
~snuggles~ got your back if you need me.
They do come in packs. That is so very true, and part of what makes them so powerful and viscous.
Thanks so much for your support!
i advocate for the avid and constant protection of one’s muses, bunnies, ground, psyche, soul or spirit (okay – ground hogs + plague = gross!) but by all means name it and claim it – as they say back home!
:0)
-kkm
Thank you!
*hug*
I’m glad your muse is coming back. And as someone who, by intent, only participates in a very small portion of the online world, I can definitely understand.
Thanks, Chris!
*hugs* Remember to tell the bunny I still have his back.
Ever my protector!