The Poet and The Muse

The sounds of a ukulele playing early in the morning was something that Steven had appreciated.

With everything that he had gone through recently, it was a blessing to be home and playing his ukulele.

Today, however, Steven was having some trouble.

Normally he would be pretty good at coming up with some sort of song. No matter how hard he tried though, the chords wouldn't form anything that he liked.

Even when he tried to do a random series of chords, hoping something would come together, nothing would come together.

He sighed and put the ukulele on the couch and laid down next to it.

"Am I just too stressed out?" Steven asked himself.

He looked to the screen door, staring at it for a while before and idea popped in his head.

He grabbed his ukulele and ran outside, heading straight to the car wash.

Greg was nowhere to be seen, so Steven guessed that he was in the van.

Knocking three times on the door, Steven's guess proved to be correct as a very startled Greg came out.

"Huh, whazza?" Greg managed to say before shaking his head to wake up. He noticed that Steven was the one who knocked on the van and said, "Oh, hey Steven."

"Hey Dad, can I ask you something?" Steven asked.

"Sure," Greg said, patting a space next to himself for Steven to sit.

Steven hopped up, ukulele in hand and said, "I'm having trouble with coming up new songs, and I was wondering how you would handle it."

Greg chuckled, "Oh, having a little bit of a creative block eh?"

"Creative block?" Steven asked.

"Yeah," Greg said, reaching back to his grab his guitar, "Anytime anyone is trying to do anything creative like making music, writing a story, or painting a picture, they sometimes get stuck on making anything."

"Is that bad?" Steven asked, somewhat concerned.

"No, no," Greg assured, "It just means that you just need to refresh your mind."

"So, how do I do that?" Steven asked.

"That depends on you, kiddo," Greg said, tuning the strings on his guitar, "You might need to not play for a while, or find something to inspire to write something, you know, a muse."

"A muse?"

"Yeah," Greg said, playing a quick chord, "A muse is something or someone that makes you want to be creative."

"Well a break didn't work, so I guess finding a muse will have to do," Steven said, grabbing his ukulele and playing a chord to match his father's.

"Any ideas?" Greg asked.

Steven held a finger to his mouth and thought for a moment.

What did he want to write a song about?

The first thought that came to his mind was Greg, but when Steven tried to play a chord, nothing came after.

The Gems?

A similar result.

Steven groaned in frustration and laid back, the ukulele resting on his stomach.

"I can't think of anything!" Steven said.

"It's ok," Greg said patiently, "You're not going to find your muse after a minute of thinking."

Steven sat up again, "Do you have a muse?"

Greg chuckled, "Yeah, I've got a couple."

"Who?" Steven asked, guessing at what Greg's answer would be.

"Well my first muse was the idea of being free to roam the country being a rock star," Greg began, playing a small tune, "But after I came here, Rose really inspired me to make all sorts of new songs."

Steven sighed.

"But now, I've got another muse," Greg said, slowly picking the strings on his guitar.

"Who?" Steven asked again.

"Well you, I thought that would have been obvious," Greg said, "You're the best thing I've got, so if I never had you, I probably would be a miserable sack of potatoes."

Steven remained quiet.

"A muse is someone that is closest to you. Someone who you know has your back. Someone who knows that you are the best thing in the world, even if you don't believe it yourself," Greg said, playing a few chords in a calming sequence.

Steven thought about Greg and the Gems again. A few more chords came to Steven's mind, but it still wasn't enough.

"I can't think of a muse!" Steven groaned.

"Who did you think of?" Greg asked.

"You and the Gems," Steven said, "You guys are my family, and I love you all, but for some reason I can't think of anything."

Greg chuckled, "Well, I'm flattered Steven, but you don't need to have us be your muses."

"But you said – "Steven began.

"I know, but a muse can be more than just family," Greg said, "Like I said, it takes time. Don't beat yourself up if a muse doesn't come to mind. Take your time and relax, you'll find one eventually."

Steven gave a small smile, hugged his father, and began walking back to the temple.

"Take your time and relax," Greg's words echoed in Steven's head.

"How can I relax?" Steven asked himself. With all the things that had happened in recent days, Steven felt like he needed to be in high alert all times.

Swimming in the ocean, playing his games, or even making a (delicious) sandwich, nothing came to mind.

Night was falling, and Steven could feel his eyes getting heavy. A yawn confirmed that he was getting tired.

He slowly walked to his bed and noticed that he had left his phone on the dresser by his bed. A small light was blinking, which meant that he had a new message.

He turned on his phone and saw that the message came from Connie.

Worried that he missed an important message, Steven quickly opened the message to see what Connie had sent.

It was a picture of a baby snake that looked like it was smiling.

Steven was confused, until he read the message that accompanied it, "A happy snake to make your day a little better :)"

Steven immediately began to laugh and began texting a message saying, "Thanks for the picture! Sorry for replying late."

Steven knew that Connie wouldn't respond until the next morning, it was school night after all, but Steven still appreciated the simple gesture.

Steven changed into his pajamas and laid down on his bed, ready to go to sleep.

Suddenly, an epiphany hit Steve.

Steven grabbed his ukulele and closed his eyes for a moment, thinking of Connie.

He opened his eyes and began to strike several chords in a sequence. To his shock the sequence of chords didn't sound off, and it was at that moment Steven realized something very important.

"Man, I really am an idiot sometimes," Steven chuckled as he continued to play.

Greg was in his van, unfortunately not tired after his afternoon nap. He had the guitar in his hands and began to play a song, the notes not quite making a pleasant rhythm.

Greg closed his eyes and had one image in his mind.

It was the image of himself, sitting on the beach, Rose laying on her belly on his right, and Steven laying on his belly on the left.

Greg smiled, a tear coming out of his closed eyes as he began to play a much more pleasant tune.

Once Greg was satisfied with his song, he opened his eyes and saw a scrap of paper near the van's door. He picked up the paper and saw that it was a scrap of paper that he had torn up years ago.

He read the paper, and old song that never got finished and read out the lyric that he had written all those years ago.

"Every poet needs their muse"

…

So, it has been a while since I posted anything.

Almost a year and a half in fact.

The only thing I can say to that is that having a soul sucking job for eight months and college in your mind can be a huge source of stress and a lack in creativity.

However, since I don't have a job anymore and am going to college in something that makes me happy, I am suddenly feeling a bit more creative.

I know that this isn't an update to my big stories, but this is something nice that I wanted to write and while it may not be my best, I thoroughly enjoyed writing this. Extra points to guessing where the title of the story comes from.

I will be writing a lot more one-shot stuff, mostly because I find it very enjoyable to write shorter stories, but I will have the next chapter of A Different Way within the month.

It'll be a long wait, but I need some time to work on the sixth draft of the sixth chapter (it really is the sixth draft of the damn thing). So, in the meantime, I will be writing a couple of shorter one-shots to let you guys know that I am not dead.

I will also be starting one of them Tumblr things I hear the kids are using. I will be cross posting all my future stuff there and here, so if you want you can swing by and tell me what you think.

You'll just need to type in Seasoned Writing in the search and you should (hopefully) find me.

Shilling aside, thank you if you are still following me, even after not posting anything for so long. You guys are the reason I want to write, you guys are my "muses" in a way.

Thank you for reading, review if you liked it!

Peace, and it's great to be back.