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Showing posts from July, 2016

Blame it on my muse.

I was innocently sitting in an airplane, and bam. It arrived. No it demanded to be heard.  Having no paper and pen handy in that very second, I pulled out my phone and started reciting was being dictated to me.  
You speak to me quietly. I strain to hear you. I like that. You make me want to lean in As I study your words one by one
There are just the two of us.
I am a writer.  I write all over the place. In journals. On my phone.  On my hand.  On napkins in restaurants.  On receipts at red lights. The words . . . just arrive. Sometimes they fly by as if they are on their way somewhere, and if I am aware of them, I can reach out and hold them. Other times they hover.  Sometimes I feel like I got hit by a truck.  This is my muse, and we have a love / hate relationship.

In Greek mythology, a muse is an inspirational goddess of literature, science and the arts. They were considered the source of the knowledge embodied in the poetry, lyric songs and myths that were related orally for centuries …


"Write hard and clear about what hurts."
- Ernest Hemingway 

The last time I did this, it took me two years, 39 drafts and about 82,000 words until I was finally able to let it go and be free.  "How to be a Pink Flamingo in a Brown Duck Pond" was published December 2014. I just learned this past week that Chapters Regina is going to stock my book on their shelves.  It will be in the local writer section, which is cool.  Maybe someday it will be bigger and important.  I don't know.  Maybe by serendipity . . .

I didn't write Pink Flamingo to make money. I wrote it to write about what hurt.  In fact that I would make money never occurred to me.  The point was to write hard and clear about what hurt, so that I could let it go.  And I did, to some degree, although not completely.  I still look back sometimes at the chain of events that precipitated that book and ask myself how I could not have seen that coming.

The hardest part about what hurt was that it was a…