After I told Twitter, I had to come up with a short summary of the piece for the table of contents. This was not so easy for me.
“It’s flash fiction,” I told Harold, “I’m telling my story in as few words as possible. How can I summarize that any further?”
“You need a logline.” He said. “What’s the story about?”
“A muse from classical myths living in our world, some thoughts on the consequences of the choice to follow or not follow a creative path. Being supportive or supported in relationships. Possibly even finding love later in life. Or at least not being emotionally dead. It’s not really clear.”
Harold is a truly good person, and did not draw attention to any recurring themes in my work.
I’m quite happy with the final summary: “a classical muse in our world, no longer young and reviewing the romantic and artistic choices she’s made,” but I’d still prefer to give a pullquote from the story.
She didn’t mind the presence of girlfriends and wives in the lives of her men—she was a muse, she didn’t pick up socks—but she felt her age as the poets and playwrights of her youth turned practical and became mid-level managers, talking about maintenance of cars and lawns. Once she met an old lover, and when he mentioned his insurance deductible, she felt she was slipping slowly from a statue back into a block of marble.