The Muse Prefers a Keyboard

"Yellow" says Is. "Your eyes are turning yellow." While chatting our way through a passable luncheon at a local establishment, Is and I were discussing writing. And just like that, the Inspiration struck for a piece. I quickly rattled off the first few lines, and then, as it does, the rest hung, waiting for me to type. "I have long considered the creative impulse to be a Visit - a thing of grace, not commanded or owned so much as awaited, prepared for. A thing, also, of mystery." says Loreena McKennitt. I know precisely what she means. My Muse smacks me in the back of my brain, and power-dumps three or four starting lines into my head. I have approximately five minutes to get to a keyboard, or it's gone forever. Apparently during this time, my eyes also turn yellow. I've never actually bothered to run past a mirror while scrambling for my laptop, so I was wholly unaware of this particular aspect of the creative visit. I'm usually more focused on getting to an outlet pronto, so I can catch this particular piece of grace before it hits its "use-by" date. In the interests of more fully being available to the Muse, I pinged my local geek community with questions about tiny, portable keyboard-entry notetaking devices. And got a pile of jokes about a pad and pencil. I've tried it. It just doesn't work. There's something about a keyboard that makes it all come out right that I cannot duplicate with non-keyboard writing. Certainly the Steno Solution would be cheaper and more accessable. But the Muse prefers the keyboard. "Woah." says Is. "You just lost it, didn't you?" She's right. The allotted five minute window is past, and the inspiration is so gone, I can't even remember the first few lines that I was originally smacked with. Gone. In potentia. My eyes are back to normal, apparently, and I'm nibbling absently on the remains of lunch. The french fries aren't bad, it's a pleasant day with pleasant company, and my muse has ditched my inadequately-responsive butt. In favor, I must suppose, of someone with a Treo.