Well, I am physically sick to my stomach now.
I have submitted my Brava novella contest. I was tempted to wait for a bit, mull it over, tweak her and there. My muse had other ideas.
Muse: "It's ready. Push the freaking button already."
Me: "Let's let it sit for a couple of days, read it over and then send it."
Muse: "Bah. It's ready. I know, you don't know anything."
Me: "We're waiting."
Me: "Two days. That's it."
Muse: (pushes the button.) "Too late. You'll thank me later. You may have time to mull it over, but I have way too much to do for that. Trust your first instincts. Now get back to the book I was working on or so help me I'll enter another contest just to make you sick."
It's official. She's certifiable. But it is in:)
(And I swear I am sane. The voices tells me so.)