The Muse is, as Muses tend to be, supremely unhelpful. But the poor, beleaguered Author forges on, awash in self-pity. There is wit abounding in this depiction of a frantic search for inspiration. Is there also a hidden tribute to Maria Irene Fornes embedded in the text?
The Muse is, as Muses tend to be, supremely unhelpful. But the poor, beleaguered Author forges on, awash in self-pity. There is wit abounding in this depiction of a frantic search for inspiration. Is there also a hidden tribute to Maria Irene Fornes embedded in the text?