A Muse Named Muppet

Well, Muppet dear, I was right. I haven't yet started my NaNoWriMo novel, the one where Gwen digs around in a graveyard. I've contemplated a whole different novel. But this new novel is still in the fun daydream stage, and has not yet lent itself to work. Never mind that, though. I've promised to tell you all about your name. Better late than never, eh?

You were named Muppet for the Muppet Babies. Every time I think of you, Muppet, I hear the theme song for that cartoon. It's bound to put a damper on our relationship. Anyway, the muppets were all highly imaginative little tykes. Seemed a proper name for a muse. Ah, but what kind of muse are you? Somehow I think of you as a dog. Probably the alliterative appeal of calling you Muppet the Mutt. Dogs can be encouraging creatures, I've heard. Or mean and growly. Both traits any good muse needs.

Enough of this nonsense. I must go now, to write. One or another of the would-be novels that float within the mists of my mind. Muppet does his job well. Teeth bared and growling, he urges me forward.

Quote of the day: Outside of a dog, a book is man's best friend.
Inside of a dog it's too dark to read.
-Groucho Marx