STILL BEANMUSED After All These Months...

I had a wonderful email discussion a few days ago with an online friend about roles in which we might like to see Sean Bean.

I have given this a lot of thought (too much thought, if I am to be truthful) and have decided that I would like to see Sean Bean in the part of Robert Langdon (the Tom Hanks role) in The DaVinci Code.

Now before you go off getting your knickers in a knot, hear me out: I quite enjoyed The DaVinci Code. Thought it was done beautifully. In fact, it was a complete mystery to me that some reviewers claim to have been disappointed that it was not a more action packed, race 'em/chase 'em kind of film. Apparently, they'd been looking for a more exciting theatrical experience. But I found it intelligent and thought provoking, just like the book. For action and excitement, I was extremely satisfied with National Treasure, which conveniently brings me back to Sean Bean.

First off, I think he and Ron Howard might have enjoyed and benefited greatly from working together. If you consider they are both genius in their work and add the notion that they appear to maintain polar opposite ideas of what is entertaining, and combine that with what we already know about their work ethic and ability to listen to and value professional, artistic input from each other, it's clear that a collaboration between these two would have made for a spectacular outcome.

TDC certainly would have been a very different film with Sean Bean as Langdon. For starters, the complete lack of sexual tension between the male and female leads would have provided such powerful anxiety... well, I believe it would have provided the catapult Bean so desperately needs for US filmmakers to catch on to his steamy screen prowess. It's no secret that they need their hands held. (Overall, with the obvious exceptions of Lucas, Spielberg, and Howard, they do not know what they are doing.)

So let's give Sean a wonderful story with a role such as Robert Langdon and have him walk them through it, shall we?

As indicated in my role preference scenario, let's have Sean escort the audience on a sensual journey where the aforementioned sexual tension is perceived by the audience instead of splashed boringly across the screen as he is oft required to do... I am stressing the profoundness of the cliche "why buy the cow when one can get the milk for free?". Instead of giving it up in nearly every film, this time I'd like to see Bean leave them wanting more. The clearly male notion that nudity is always what the audience wants is such a foolhardy insult to the intellect and creative imagination of the audience! Someone else's interpretation is never as good as one's own.

Picture this win/win outcome: Instead of exiting theaters fanning feverishly while announcing that Sean Bean is hot, women will instead be exiting theaters completely unaware, at first, that they will not be able to get him out of their heads. Their clamoring to see him again will most assuredly catch the watchful eyes of the powers-that-be who will then pat themselves black and blue on their collective backs while their brazenly expensive PR firms denominate the ensuing pandemonium: The Sean Bean Phenomenon! Oh lordy, I can see it all now!

CHECK AND MATE!

THEN... On the heels of that, I would like to see him in the role I believe to have been written for him.

My ultimate dream part for Sean Bean...

In a perfect world, Sean would play Jamie Fraser in *OUTLANDER which would be produced by the BBC as a series of about 12 films and run over a period of somewhere between six months to a year. He would start as a young Sean (think Storyteller) and magically age 20 years at the appropriate time. If anyone could do this, it's Sean Bean. I would trust no one else to play a much beloved character such as Jamie Fraser. (Oh and I, of course, would be Claire Randall Fraser. *cough, chortle, cough* This is in a perfect world, right?)

It would have to be the BBC because they are infinitely more responsible with literature than US film makers. Sad but blatantly true.


Carol
Anyone have Sean Bean's phone number? I owe him a couple of Thank You's anyway...
*Outlander By Diana Gabaldon

CAN'T HELP MYSELF...

I am so delighted with this video of Sean Bean, my muse for Logan...
He is on ABC's ROSIE O'DONNELL SHOW discussing LORD OF THE RINGS: THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE RING



Thanks to Destiny for this!

I particularly like the end where he says, "I'll have another one" and then plays with the action figures like a little boy... I saw a clip of Ian McKellen doing the same thing with his action figure from LOTR... Absolutely charming. (Steve would do the same thing...) Uh... wouldn't those action figures be lovely items for my keepsake box?

You Tube Credit goes to: mirorimij (Title: Sean Bean Interview)

--o0o--

Next up is a video of him being interviewed by FRANK SKINNER in two parts. These are hilarious. Looked like both men had a terrific time with this and I enjoyed them immensely. Give 'em a look. Love the action figure play again. Sean makes reference to the one he received from Rosie.



YouTube Credit for the Frank Skinner Interview Parts 1 & 2 goes to: Govi20

I was truly captivated while Sean Bean spoke of his decision to become an actor...



Once again, I have to thank Destiny for these.

JUST A GAME?

MY TWO CENTS ON THE FOOTBALL DEBACLE:

(On May 13th at Brammel Lane in Sheffield, England, the home team, nicknamed The Blades, were unjustly robbed of their Premier Status when they were beaten by West Ham. This loss was particularly painful for all football (soccer to Americans) fans because West Ham had illegally signed two of its players, one of whom made the winning goal. For this, WH were merely chastised with what could only be referred to as a token fine, but not charged any points. This made it possible for them to steal Premiership by this win and drive Sheffield United aka The Blades into Relegation.)

What happened in Sheffield on May 13th remains completely unacceptable. I have no idea how or why things went the way they did, and I will not opine about it here. What I do know is that it was grossly unfair, unjust, and utterly ill advised.

This is as good a point as any for me to go on the record and say that I am appalled by the way the Blades gallant fight for justice is being received by the media. All this chatter about their visit to Parliament today being an act of desperation is irresponsible. Shame on these reporters for their blatant favoritism and their poor journalism. For heavens sake! The Blades are not asking for something that isn't rightfully theirs. No one is asking for a free ride! They are seeking fairness.

Michael Palin (of Monty Python fame) said it best: "I heartily support ... all those who feel strongly that the arbitration panel should re-consider the decision on West Ham's punishment. A fine makes precious little difference to a club like West Ham, and a points deduction would have not only matched the crime, but have been a just encouragement for all those clubs, who, like Sheffield United, have played fair. To let the current judgement stand makes everyone involved look as if they don't really care."

As Sean Bean expresses his feelings about it in this video, the Sheffield United administrators did everything right in adherence of the rules. It's reasonable that they now feel as though they are being punished while the team who ruthlessly disregarded those same rules (Sorry, I call 'em as I see 'em) are receiving accolades and remuneration. In short, West Ham's bad form is being rewarded by Premiership Status which means, lest we forget, millions upon millions of dollars for them. Well, it sems to me that Mr. Bean is absolutely right. Hey! You can fool some of the people some of the time, but you cannot fool this ol' Jersey-girl - ever!.

Do the Powers-that-be really want to leave this door open?

Really?

Do they?

And pardon me for asking, but don't the West Ham fans feel cheated? Aren't they ashamed that the team they so faithfully support has mocked them by playing so underhanded a card? I would be furious with West Ham administrators for this!

Okay, I had better stop; my temper is flaring a bit too much... It's just so completely wrong! This whole thing should never have happened.

Steve and I have discussed this a lot and we both feel that if we were in the UK, we very likely would have somehow taken part in the Blades' crusade today, even if all we did was show up and hand out coffee. It's not that we are necessarily Blades fans, mind you, but we are indeed football fans! To be frank, I am at a complete loss to comprehend how anyone who is a true fan of the game could not side with Sheffield United in this fight. I admire the daylights out of Sean Bean and everyone who accompanied him today. They are doing the right thing. I can only hope their words have not fallen upon deaf ears.

(I'll interject here that this game on the 13th between Sheffield United and West Ham was the last one Steve and his dad watched together via telephone - on opposite sides of the pond. It was later that very evening his father passed away. (See my 5.15 post: A Little Bit of Rain) Steve has actually been distracted from his grief a bit by this whole thing and has even stated that he is glad his father is not here to see this happening to football.)

Okay, here is the video of which I wrote a few paragraphs up:
SEAN BEAN SPEAKS OUT...


If I am to be completely honest, I cannot pretend to have been a longtime fan of Mr. Bean's... Well, in my defense, I hadn't heard of him until a few months ago, but he gets A's in my book for today's action. I like him and I admire him. His heart is clearly in this. Sean Bean, unlike so many others who have chosen to remain on the sidelines and keep quiet, will be able to sleep tonight knowing he did everything he could to change things. How can anyone fail to admire that?

It's not difficult to see he is emotional about this situation. He looks away from the interviewer most of the time; he repeats himself; and he is constrained, like someone holding himself back. And why wouldn't he be emotional? Is there anyone alive who has never experienced the heartbreaking torment of watching his or her team suffer a significant loss or sacrifice an important title. Can anyone deny, then, that it must be unbearable to experience watching them lose in such a dreadfully unjust manner. His anger, like that of all Blades fans, must be eating him alive!

Sheffield United were robbed, plain and simple. Justice must be done here. Now, whether or not they will actually receive their Premiership Status again, I do not quite understand - and no matter how Steve tries to explain it to me, I am not grasping it.

I'll close by stating the obvious ...and the heartfelt. For Sheffield United, it's all about their status and the money it will bring to them; I realize that. For me, it's about justice and the integrity of the game. Our son plays football and dreams of playing professionally one day. It's no wonder, therefore, that maintaining the integrity of the game is significant to us. I believe an example must be made of West Ham. I hope and indeed pray that those who have the power to set this right will be unmercifully hard on West Ham - to be sure this does not become a yearly fight. The time to set the correct precedent is now.

Oh, how I hope the high road, in this case, will not be the one less traveled!

We shall see.

Until the 18th we are
Waiting patiently... and passionately,
Carol

THE PERFECT MUSE (or... What to do with a Hill a' Beans!)

I'll share two more happenings that revolve (sort of) around British Actor Sean Bean's being an integral muse in my latest project. Two incidents that have indeed contributed to the huge amount of fun I am having with it, and then the topic of Bean really has to close. (He's taking over! Gotta nip that in the bud. I am a grown woman, not a silly schoolgirl. I will not obsess over some actor... even if he does have a voice that could melt the polar ice cap... I will not obsess. I will not. I will not. I will... not.)

Okay, I am teasing. I am not obsessing over an actor, although given some of the things I have read online lately, that does appear to make me somewhat of an oddball.

Anyway, my first tale is of something that happened between Steve and I. As you know, I'd downloaded some photos of Bean, three to be exact, to place on my storyboard and because I had decided to write longhand for a while, I decided to put one of them on the computer as my desktop wallpaper so it would be, uh, well, in my face. The shot was a very tight close up in which he is masterfully exhibiting a thoughtful sadness, a loneliness. His expression is perfectly in tune with the passage with which I am currently struggling. I am at a point where I must write a particularly heart-wrenching experience for Logan and I tend to rely upon outside stimuli for that type of thing rather than force myself to use my own life experiences to draw on emotionally. I still cry when I am writing it, but my tears are for the character, as I am avoiding the need to call upon painful memories of my own. This photograph was the last one I found. The one that brought about the EUREKA! reaction I wrote of in DISMUSED. (See: 3/07 entry, DISMUSED)

Now, my eight year old wandered in to my office looking for a book to read and to hang with mom. (I love when they do that...) As she curled up on the sofa and pulled the throw over herself, she glanced over to my computer, noticed the photo of Bean, and with an impish grin announced she was going to tell her father.

She didn't come back in, but Steve did.

Now, this is as good a time as any to point out that my Steve is the ultimate muse. He is and always has been my own personal Mac Dreamy. Standing at six foot, two with broad, muscular shoulders and a thirty-three inch waist, he is the epitome of "handsome and rugged". With piercing green eyes that can be so dark they sometimes look black, unusually smooth olive complected skin, thick wavy black hair with a touch of salt and pepper at the temples, and a deep raspy voice, Steve is truly the kind of man people write about.

And there is a lot to write.

Once you get past the titillating exterior there is so much more. Well-read, talented, artistic and creative, he is also a man of great integrity and character. His devotion to this family knows no bounds. First of all, he puts up with me and... that makes him admirable on so many levels! A world-class husband and dad, he is generous, affectionate, loving and ever available to the kids and me; a good example twenty-four, seven.

If you'll kindly excuse the expression, "a good citizen of the world", I'll throw that in the mix, too. I know it sounds cliché, but he really is. He cares, with all his heart, that what we leave for our children, by way of environment, politics, and religion is all that it can be and he unwaveringly leads our family in that pursuit. In addition to that, he is the kind of man to whom people naturally gravitate; everyone likes to be around him. He's extremely warm and approachable, lighthearted and easygoing. A quick wit, he's always at the ready with a handy quip or a full-fledged anecdote that could rival any stand-up comic out there. And while his humor and practical jokes are legendary amongst our family and friends, he can turn on a dime when someone needs help. Whenever there is trouble or need, Steve is always the first one on the scene and the last one to leave, selflessly lifting spirits, moving mountains, and offering support.

He consistently raises the bar for me and our kids in every arena, be it work, school, music, sports, volunteering... From simple every-day tasks like picking up after himself or partnering with me in tending to our gardens - to contributing to a positive outcome in the grand scheme of things by volunteering our family for Habitat of Humanity or stopping everything and packing us all up to help clean up New Orleans, he puts forth his best effort, and readily exposes his deepest feelings. The rest of us just naturally follow suit. I admire him, I look up to him, and I aspire to be like him -- even after all these years... And I know our kids feel the same way.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Now, as I said, our eight year old had gone to tattle that mommy had a picture of a man on her computer and it wasn't daddy.

The idea that Steve could have more than a little fun with this was not lost on him, not for a second. So in he comes all cute and nosy, looking to see who, what, where and why. He sashayed over to me at the desk and leaned in to share a sweet kiss while glancing sideways at the computer. "What goes on here?" he asked, hovering over me authoritatively.

Embarrassed, I leaned forward, crossed my arms over the screen to shield it from his glare, and feigned innocence, "Uh, Nothing... Nothing. It's nothing, just a picture of that actor... uh, what's-his-name."

"Whatshisname." Steve echoed sternly.

"Yeah, you know, that one I am using for my muse. Whatshisname. The British actor." My attempt at nonchalance was a miserable failure.

"Sean Bean." His tone was unreadable.

"Yes, yes; that's it. Bean." I didn't look at him because I knew he wasn't buying this act for a second.

He went on to say he did not know if he liked this Bean business, and it became apparent as he glanced around my office noting the three photos of the dashing actor on my story board, that my Stevie suddenly felt he had something to, uh, prove. ...So, he locked the door and we had ourselves a TIME. (Not that we aren't always having ourselves a Time, but this one was unexpected and particularly Fun.)

It's official: I must send our Mr. Bean a Thank you! Maybe I'll send one to his parents too...

- - - - - - - - - - - -

When Steve and I were fin... uh, afterward, I cooed something about removing the photo of Bean from my desktop and replacing it with the one of the two of us that had been there before. He stretched, wrapped his arms around me and laughed, saying there was no need; he knew Bean was no threat to him. I liked that.

He was right...

___________________

The Second Story is much shorter. Although it is no less fun for the eleven of us, here in the land of Awwwwwwww's.

My online searches for photographs of Bean had led me to several sites built in his honor. And I have indeed communicated with some of the frequent visitors there who have been more than gracious in offering information that assisted me in ultimately locating the shots I chose.

Last week I received an email from one of these women asking me if I owned any of Bean's movies and if I would like the ones I did not already have. I responded that I did not have any at all, adding that I might be interested in borrowing a SHARPE or two - given that I had, once upon a time, enjoyed the books. Wasn't that nice of her...

Saturday, my UPS guy delivered a huge box.

With the exception of SHARPE'S CHALLENGE, which has apparently been released on DVD ONLY, I think this young woman has sent me everything he has ever done. From the entire SHARPE series to SILENT HILL, including TV appearances, interview/talk shows, guest shots and commercials - even commercials where he does a voice-over, there must be forty tapes... It seems she has recently, making partial use of a hefty tax refund, replaced all her VHS Bean with DVD Bean and I am the beneficiary of her efforts. How cool is THAT!

I asked Steve to build me a new shelf unit for my newly acquired Hill 'a Beans, but he hasn't answered me yet...

If I play my cards right, shelves or no, maybe he'll feel he has something to prove.

God bless you, Sean Bean, wherever you are!!

CM

Read some excerpts from BEHIND THE WALL

THE MUSE IS BACK!

COLOR ME HAPPY!

My muse is back and I have not had a breakdown of some kind in the meanwhile... Okay, well, that's debatable, but I am feeling fine now!

I had resolved, just yesterday, to stop struggling to find another muse and, instead, bite the proverbial bullet, give in, and re-write Logan to accommodate my, uh, issues with Bean. Sounds silly, I know, but cut me some slack. Every writer knows that the muse holds the power. He dictates. I merely transcribe. Re-writing the story would have been infinitely easier than finding a replacement muse to drive a story that has been inspired by another...

It never ceases to amaze me that as soon as I acknowledge that I am indeed not the one in control, I am given that very thing which I so desperately desired. In this case, I had been dreaming of finding my muse again, steadfastly intact.

Today, my wish is granted. (Oh, how dramatic, but, truth be told, I feel dramatic about it...) Still unable to write and cruelly left alone with my thoughts because plans for the day had been thwarted by inclement weather, I chose to lock myself in my office in an attempt to force myself to, at some point, at least touch the keyboard. But, alas, it was not to be so; I rebelliously avoided it like the plague. Even my bookshelves seemed to hold no interesting respite; no beckoning there, which is what leads me to admit that my statement about not having had a breakdown is somewhat debatable. Books have always been my hiding place and for me to look at them and feel nothing is, quite frankly, cause for alarm.

Frustrated and desperate for an escape, I actually turned on the TV. Now, anyone reading this who knows me personally just gasped in disbelief, but I assure you, it is true...

What transpired then was nothing short of stunning. You may remember that in my lamentation, DISMUSED, I mentioned that Sean Bean had a movie in current release in the UK. I am now convinced that he must have something going on over here in the States as well because that man is all over the small screen! I could not change the channel without bumping into him. Everywhere I went, there he was. (Is he stalking me? Hmmm? Why, yes, I have been called a dreamer; why do you ask?) Anyway, I saw SHARPE; some mad scientist on an ISLAND cloning mankind for fun and profit; greedy Ian scurrying to locate our NATIONAL TREASURE by stealing the Declaration of Independence; a man desperate to find his wife and daughter who'd gone missing in some weird, dark nightmarish sci-fi thing on SILENT HILL; and the handsome Airline Pilot who disrupted my FLIGHTPLAN and started all this by making me notice Sean Bean in the first place. Why, if I didn't know better, I'd swear he was stalk... uh, well, never mind.

At any rate, his brilliant personifications one after the other, or remoting back and forth as the case may be, enthralled and entertained. Afterwards it hit me just how clever this actor is. Consider this: It's one thing to carry a film on your back when you are the lead; quite another, I would imagine, when you are not. Strategically placing himself in so many secondary roles when he is the epitome of a leading man is nothing short of brilliant. Bean gets A's in my book. Only other actor I have ever admired for such selfless, brainy moves is Dustin Hoffman. If Bean loves his craft the way Dustin does, we'll all grow old together; that's a given!

I find his wisdom and humility very appealing indeed!


All is well. The muse is back!


I really ought to send him a Thank You...

CM
--
Newprose.org

"Life is no brief candle. It's a sort of splendid torch, so make it
burn as bright as possible." --George Bernard Shaw

DISMUSED!

TODAY I am faced with something interesting. My lustfully muse-filled emotions - that feeling of bliss when one is in love – are settling down.

Last evening I had a perplexing sort of "turn-off" experience that one would think would have been, I dare say should have been, the polar-opposite. It all started innocently enough when I checked my email. I was suddenly and delightfully besieged with a lengthy list of interesting tidbits on my Logan-muse, talented British actor Sean Bean. Nothing out of the ordinary here. Presently, there is a lot on him owing to the UK release of his latest movie, OUTLAW.

This is as good a place as any to interject that I had discovered him several months ago and become ensorcelled and bean-mused without even realizing it. (Cheap play on words, I know, but cut me some slack; it was right there. I had to do it.) The main character for my story, BEHIND THE WALL, finally came to life and spilled out of my imagination and onto the keyboard within days, requiring very little applied effort on my part. He suddenly had a soul and I would never, for one minute, deny that Bean gets full credit for that inspiration. He has indeed been a wonderful muse. No let downs there I can assure you. Handsome and rugged with a voice that is soft and smoky and warm all the way down, he lingers just on the steamy side of delicious! From that first moment when I sat bolt upright in my bed and raced to the keyboard in the depths of night to introduce Logan to the rest of the personae, this man has been on my mind. Rest assured this does not mean more than that. I am not the celebrity-crushing, forum-joining, blogging type. He simply made his way into my head and inspired a book. (Nice little feather for his thespian cap, eh?) Having no real clue about this man of whom I'd never heard and have now learned, to my utter surprise, has been around for the last twenty-something years, (I need to get out more...) I wanted to see more of him. But what to do! I set myself up at IMDb and have been no less than stunned at his lengthy resume! While there I was offered an option to "Google” him. I did. (Sounds playfully naughty, doesn't it?)

It seems Google will email you new information as it hits the Internet on any subject in which you may have an interest. If you click on this option, you need do nothing more. Now I, being a sap for the easy way to do anything, opted in to the Sean Bean Google Alert in hopes of locating and possibly downloading the perfect musable photos of him. To that end, I have successfully printed out two outstanding shots of him. They are strategically perched on my storyboard even as I write this.

Additionally, I have learned that he had appeared in LORD OF THE RINGS - as Boromir, no less – (Stop rolling your eyes; it’s not attractive.) I freely admit to knowing that I may well be the one person who had not seen it. But hear me out; I’d completely resisted viewing it because I have so deeply loved and cherished my own heady creative interpretations inspired by Tolkien's masterpiece books. I was more than a little put off by the idea of anyone's unwelcome, special effects laden, hollywoodesque interpretations interfering with my wonderful childhood hiding place. Suffice it to say that I can now add crossing that bridge and having a wonderful experience doing so to the list of things for which Mr. Bean's sudden appearance in my life gets all the credit. (Should I write him a Thank You?) Now that I have seen it, I cannot believe that I refused so adamantly to view it, in spite of its intermittent varying, which I have now come to embrace. (**Such a stubborn refusal on my part is sacrilegious, especially given that LOTR also boasts among its cast members my most highly favored, revered actor, Ian McKellen, as Gandalf. But I digress.)

The point I am attempting to make is that I was happily moving forward, writing my little heart out, ecstatically becoming hopelessly engrossed in what I believe to be the finest thing I have ever written. Last evening, suddenly and without warning, it came to a screeching halt for reasons that astound and bewilder me.

I'd opened my email to find a lengthy list of Google alerts for my muse. Rubbed my hands together in anticipation of finding that one elusive, perfect photo for which I'd been longing and clicked to open. Eureka! There amongst the proverbial ashes I did indeed find it. Perfect. Exactly what I am looking for. Time to close and disable the alerts. But there was so much more listed and I am compelled to admit, I mean, uh, confess that morbid curiosity, well, to be brutally honest it was an embarrassing sort of slimy internet voyeurism that beckoned me to continue. (What is it they say about curiosity and a certain cat?)

Nothing dangerous to start... some news items about the release of OUTLAW; too many links to interviews and reviews, both written and video. Don't need to spend time on those. (I tend to go out of my way to avoid interviews by actors, preferring to simply enjoy the magic…) There were old items about other features; bloggers' wisdom on same; male and female opinions and adolescent rantings over all his, let us politely say: attributes... It does boggle the mind what some people will write for all the world to see. (Would we call that a bloggin' boggle?) I continued along, occasionally shaking my head, occasionally giggling as I unceremoniously nodded along in solidarity, acknowledging shared fantasies with his many fans, some of which were tantalizingly explicit, some grotesquely so. What the hell, I reasoned with myself, This is entertainment at its finest; real stuff by real folks. Who has not ever had such thoughts about an actor or actress with whose character one had fallen madly in love, or lust as the case may be? Nothing wrong with that; it's perfectly normal, healthy even. I encouraged myself to continue...

"SLASH... WARNING: EXPLICIT. Bean/..." was how it read. My first instinct was to shut the email down; delete it.

While I freely admit to having had such thoughts about Bean, even put them into print between my lead characters, Logan and Cassie, within the realms of their own bedroom role-play/fantasy exploits, I have never taken the plunge into the boldly explicit. What will it be like, I wondered, how far will it go? Clearly, what was offered here would be a fictionalized account (as opposed to that which I had already been reading: mere admissions of having had subjective sensual fantasies about Monsieur Bean.) THIS, on the other hand, would be blatant, wanton sex; the actual revealing of the fantasy itself sprawled across my screen. The resulting assailing thoughts coupled with my own now rampant fantasies were beyond seductive. I did not delete the email.

I paused, stood, walked away, meandered into the laundry room, fussed about for a bit...

Slowly, cautiously, I made my way back to the computer and opened up the link. (I often wonder if men realize the unparalleled sexual excitement a woman relishes from the occasional male/male fantasy. Can they have even the remotest clue? I suspicion they think this idea of same sex fantasy, albeit female/female, is exclusively theirs, but I shall examine that likelihood another time, possibly in essay form.) I jumped in with right hand planted steadfastly in a death grip upon my mouse at the ready to close it down in an instant should I find it all too much for my now overly stimulated, out of control sensual psyche. (I thought it a necessarily safe place for my right hand to be.) Did I really need to see this man in this light? (Steve has already been blessed, or sexually harassed and abused as the case may be, with the ramifications of muse-lust after I have written a particularly steamy and/or romantic scene involving Logan and Cassie. He has stated emphatically on more than one occasion that if he ever meets Sean Bean he does indeed have two words for him: THANK YOU! Steve is so together, isn't he? What a guy, huh? But, what of this? Dare I get into this? Could I stand it; could Steve handle me if I did? Have mercy! I had worked myself up to the point of no return just thinking about the likely resulting aftermath before I'd even begun to read.)

- - - - - - - - - - -

Oh my darlings, I have flown too close to the sun and lost my muse.

I did not listen to my gut instinct, choosing instead to play with fire and I foolishly allowed myself to be ushered where I should never have gone. "Explicit" does not cover what I read. It was extreme; too extreme for me. I do not know how to describe what happened to me as I read along. It was literally a one-moment-excited-utterly-turned-on / next-moment-gone-too-far kind of thing. Snap! My muse was gone. (And I have the unmitigated gall, the extreme audacity to feel somehow violated.)

I had thought to enhance my own male/male fantasy involving someone whom I perceived to be an alpha-male and was instead introduced to the alternate point of view: that the idea of him as alpha-male is the fantasy, indeed the grand deception. It all rang too loud. Too loud... No beating me up, here. Please understand, I have no turn-off issues with homosexuality. On the contrary, as I have already explained, it is at times quite the opposite. (Now for the obligatory apologetic letmeexplain: I am a relatively non-imposing, non-judgmental woman who sees everyone as a loving morsel of God Itself, to be cherished. Wasn't that pretty?) Additionally, this is not in any way a reflection on Sean Bean. I don't know his personal business and I don't care to know, sexual or otherwise. He is an accomplished, outstanding actor and I ask nothing more from him than more (much more) in that arena. Please, God! The only bearing all this has here is in its significance to how it relates to muse: If Logan is not who I think he is, my story takes another road, a whole new road, with twists and bumps I had not anticipated.

Dammit! It's all taken up residence in my head now...

Whether or not I am going to be able to manage this does not look promising; when I'd read all that I could stand, instead of seeking out my own resident alpha-male for some hot'n steamy, I nestled into bed next to him and… went to sleep. Not a good sign. Not a good sign at all... (The logical question here in its simplest form is: Why didn't I stop reading it? I have no answer for that... well, except to say that perhaps I was hoping that the sensual attraction that had been so strong would re-awaken before the conclusion, but the bare bones truth of it is I cannot know for sure. What I do know is that the analytical side of me will be beating this to death in the weeks to come. Have I expressed myself in expletives yet?)

How I will continue to write Logan without his soul or, I should say, the soul I had imagined for him, I do not know. I have never been so challenged and I am desperately afraid of where this will go. I do not know if I can write it at all. I approached my office this morning with the trepidation and disdain of a child taking a slow walk to the principal's office.

I have no interest to write it at all.

There is nothing.

Nothing...

Oh, lamentable day! Has all of what I have already written been for naught? Are Logan and Cassie to disappear forever, unfinished?

I have experienced writer's block before, but this... this is something else.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

In BEHIND THE WALL, Cassie, who like most women is prone to the occasional premonition, laments to Logan that she has had a dream in which Jamie is standing right in front of her but she cannot sense his physicality, nor can she get to him, touch him. It’s as though there is a barrier between them. In desperation, emboldened by her love for him, she forces herself through the barrier which then smashes like glass into a million glittering pieces. What should have become a misty romantic interlude instead turns to horrific nightmare when Jamie himself also shatters and disappears. In his stead, just beyond where he had been standing, she sees the shadowy figure of a faceless man, devoid of voice, scent, body language or luster.

Seems I have, in writing this passage, had a premonition of my own...


Regretfully dis-mused in New Jersey,
Carol Marsella

Library/Excerpts: BEHIND THE WALL