Archive for January, 2014


On My Own

muse witchGood morning my darklings.  I’ve had my coffee and am sitting here with a cigarette after staring at a blank screen way too early in the morning.  It seems I’m on my own.  My muse delivered some good ideas to start a story but then left me hanging.  That’s okay, though.  It’s been a while since I wrote anything, even a short story to submit somewhere.  I’m rusty.

Maybe she wasn’t sleeping.  Maybe she felt ignored and is teaching me a lesson.  I can’t rely completely on the magic of a muse to guide me.  Perhaps I need to rely on me.  We make our dreams come true by sitting at that computer and submitting to publishers and agents.  The muse has nothing to do with that.

I had an experience with a bad agent once and wasted years of my life being told there was hope and then that I’d been rejected.  A group of us left after we were fed up with waiting and being force-fed lies.  Now many of them are published and I’m part of the rest of them that are signed with publishers and getting first edits and on our way.  And we did it on our own.  Except, of course, for the support of each other.

So I guess the point I’ve learned and am trying to share is, don’t wait for it to happen.  You can do this on your own.

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Emergence

emmergenceGood morning my darklings.  I know I’ve been gone for longer than usual but I’ve been having some writing issues and didn’t want anyone else have to endure my problem.  No one wants to read bad writing.  But I think I may have gotten through it, like a long, bad cold and I’m back with my coffee and cigarette ready to go.  🙂

That’s why I picked this picture of a fairy coming out of the water, eyes red with what I’ll call determination and titled this post emergence.  I’m coming out of a ton of pressure, ready to go again.

It doesn’t hurt that I heard from my publisher.  My book is next for the editor and they’re looking forward to selling my book.  It’ll be released in all e-book formats and regular book format.  The waiting to hear something after I signed the contract was killing me.  Patience is a virtue I lack.

Ideas are starting to come to me.  They’re rough but so are gems before they’re polished.  I’m reading again.  That’s how bad it was.  I didn’t even want to read a book.  It was too depressing that I wasn’t writing anything myself.

The good thing is my morbidity hasn’t left me.  I still love the dark and what lurks there.  So there’s plenty to work less.  Let’s hope my muse decides to give that big stretch and yawn and blesses my with a fresh flow of words.  Wish me luck.  🙂