From the "Who's Gonna Snark Snarky Since Snarky Can't Snark Himself" department, I'd just like to toss out a random "Yo!" in regards to yesterday's Gossamer Commons, because I feel his pain. Every creator wants to be Mozart; most of us barely even rate Salieri. It's a cruel, cruel world to the midlist types.
There's always the suspicion that the story is in there somewhere amongst all the junk, if we could just find it, polish it, and make it shine for the world to see. Of course, it's easy to forget that most authors/artists/whatever who create something that endures through the ages, aren't "discovered" until after they're already dead.
So even if Keith is given a muse, he's not likely to find out about it -- he'll be dead from an acute case of Fairy Murder, and suddenly some piece of dross he wrote in college will be a huge hit.
Alas, the ennui of it all!
-The Gneech, marked for death since 1969
EDIT: Check it out, Snarky's Snarked the Snarkers Who Snark Snarky. How recursive can you get?