My Muse is a Lie

Writers write. Or, so I’ve been told. What happens when we don’t? We come up with other things to do. Laundry is piling up, so I can’t write. The baby has been sick, so I can’t write. I’m in a fibro flare, so I can’t write. My muse is quiet, so I can’t write. Or can I?

The truth is simple: my muse is a lie.