Muse

I have a friend visiting. I'm itching to write her into a character.

The actual, physical act of writing is brand new to me. I decided to start this blog and had it up and running the next day. That's how easy it is to get a blog. The amazing, brilliant, wonderful thing is that I haven't run out of things to write about yet.

I've been writing in my mind for years. I'd construct a short story based on some woman I was watching in the airport, or some man in the grocery store, or some kids playing on the street.

The difference is that now I have my muse. My muse is a fickle bitch; she didn't come to visit until I turned forty. What kind of friend is that? I'm not really complaining because she's here now and I don't want to offend her.

Muse, you are a most welcome new friend. Come, sit in my kitchen and have a cup of tea, or a glass of wine, or just sit and talk. You are welcome anytime.