While driving to and from a conference (on death and dying), i listened to Stephen King’s 11-22-63. Two of the characters reminded me of Stephen King’s muse whom he describes in On Writing. If I recall he is a lanky smoking man in black who leans against a bar. He could explain the crude language. Speak it and the story will come. Maybe you can’t chose your muse.

But what if you could? Would I ask Laura Ingalls Wilder? Would I want to stick to her rules? Would she be open to new ones, or does she want to stay stuck in the past? Does newfangled come with too high a pricetag? That’s what apocalypses are for.

Bing Crosby apparantly advanced sound recording and broadcasting technology, even though he didn’t really change style. I like his duet with David Bowie. What if I asked David Bowie? I don’t know him very well, but he did lean against that piano…