Finding a muse

"Thus, with child to speak, and helpless in my throes, biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite: Fool! said my muse to me, look in thy heart, and write. "

- Sir Philip Sidney

I sit in front of blank screens often, willing the words to come. They defy me. They mock me. They dance around in my head refusing to make that trip from my brain to my fingertips, magically transposing upon the faux sheet of paper on the computer with the infernal blinking cursor beating a morse code that when translated would surely say "You are a fraud. You are not a writer. Stick to something you know."

My only concern is this is all I know. I write because I am a writer. There is ink in my veins. I'm just having a 41-year slump is all.

Or should I say was. I’ve started writing again. And I owe this newfound commitment to written word to my muse. My wonderful, charming, forgiving muse.

To say thank you for kickstarting my creative flow, I offer this blog and this first post for him.