That dang internet!

With the best of intentions, I signed up for not one, but TWO online classes: Plotting with Delilah Devlin and Elle James and Guerilla Tactics with Lori Wilde. I registered, I paid, I readied myself. Then my Internet went out for a bit. Thanks to my network guru Danny, I'm back online.

To say that I'm behind in the classes is an understatement. At last count, I have almost 800 emails to wade through and umpteen lessons to complete. I feel like the marathon runner that took a wrong turn at the starting line and ran a mile on the wrong course. But I will not give up. Better late than never right?

Deep breath.

I can do this. Time to go to school y'all. Class has started. :)

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.