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Saturday, March 21, 2015

Listening To My Muses

I have two muses. Many writers will admit to having one. Many non-writers think the rest of us are a touch crazy. Maybe I am—not sure. My ideas come from somewhere, and many are ideas I never dreamed I would have.

My first muse’s name is Angel. She reminds me of an angel. Dressed in white with gold tipped wings, her voice is gentle and quiet when she whispers ideas. Her ideas are sweet and loving. She helps me with my children’s stories, love scenes or descriptions of beautiful gardens, etc.

Blooderfly is the extreme opposite of Angel. They could be twins, but Blooderfly's color of choice is red. She also whispers ideas, but they are about how to kill off a character or fight the evil spirit attacking my characters. She helped with the descriptions of creepy, dilapidated houses and abandoned haunted insane asylums. She’s excellent at describing a walking corpse or how words, written in blood, should appear on a wall.  

Since I write supernatural thrillers with a touch of horror at times, Blooderfly is usually fluttering on my laptop. Angel is very patient and sits quietly until I need her. When I begin to write a scene that could be sweet and tender, Angel is full of ideas, but Blooderfly doesn’t like to wait. She flies right in with ideas on how to change it into a scary scene. Sometimes they fight and Blooderfly can be a bit of a bully. She usually wins. I think that’s why I don’t write many soft, romantic scenes into my books. A menacing creature back from the dead descending a staircase is more likely to appear in my stories.

If I said I had seen my muses, I would be committed, but I have them sitting where I can see them as I write. My mother, God rest her soul, brought them back from a trip to Germany where she grew up. She said they always had them on the Christmas tree. They are less than two inches tall and look like tiny fairies. The one dressed in white is the well-behaved angel and the one in red, the mischievous angel. Mom used to tease me that I was a lot like the red angel.

Perhaps that is why I love to write supernatural stories filled with mystery and thrills. My ideas must come from somewhere. Are they only in my mind and my imagination dreams them up as I need them? That’s a scary thought, my mind is full of all that craziness, but then my family will tell you I do walk to the beat of a different drummer. I see stories in things and places, they don’t. Is that my imagination or do Angel and Blooderfly have the ability to turn invisible and flutter around me as I walk out my door? I’ll never know, but I do know I love writing, and if they are helping, I hope they never stop. Happy Reading!

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