Temptation

Okay. Admit it.

Who's raided the Halloween candy yet?

Go ahead. Raise your hand. You're among friends.

We know you really didn't want to do it (or maybe you did!), but in a moment of weakness, you tiptoed over to the place where you hide it from your kids, rationalized it by picking the "least likely candy" that kids will like (but conveniently it happens to be your favorite), made a small tear in the bag so no one will notice, and took one, maybe two pieces out to satisfy that craving. Before you know it, you have to head to the store before Sunday for an extra bag. How do I know so much about this? Um, no reason.

What's this have to do with writing? Give me a minute; I'll think of a connection.

How about... We know you really didn't want to waste your precious writing time surfing the web, but during a plot snag, you rationalized it by clicking "just one or two" writer blogs to keep up with the current posts. Before you know it the dryer buzzes, the kids need help with homework, you need to start supper, (fill in the blank). How do I know so much about this? Eh, again, no reason. No sir-ee.

What "least likely candy" are you planning on stocking your Halloween bowl with this weekend? (i.e., what's your favorite?)

My Muse is Not From Xanadu

Does anyone remember the movie Xanadu starring Olivia Newton-John?(I'm definitely showing my age here). Kira (Olivia) was a muse who was sent to inspire a struggling artist. I loved this movie and played the album over and over again. Take a trip down memory lane with me. Or if you're too young, here's why 80s fashion can NOT make a come back any time soon.



Okay, confession time. For a while I wanted to BE Olivia Newton-John. I longed for a muse to come and touch my voice so that I could sing like Olivia. Yeah, that didn't happen. I'm a brunette and couldn't touch the final high note of Xanadu with a ten foot pole. So then I wanted to be Pat Benatar. But that's another story.

My muse is not from Xanadu. My muse lives at the library.

She flits among the book shelves and flies up to the high ceilings. When I walk through the entrance she senses my presence and beckons me to my favorite room upstairs. She waits patiently while I empty my tote bag. I begin my ritual of spreading out and setting up my notebooks, pencil, cell phone (on vibrate), and post-its at my table. Before she sprinkles her magic, she waits for a treat. She knows I have a sweet tooth. We've been known to share Hershey nuggets, Eclipse mints, and Sour Patch Kids. Then she goes to work.

The library is where I always work best. There are no distractions (except for trying not to crinkle my candy wrappers too loudly) at the library. The writing flows so freely there. It's amazing how focused I become. I can often reach between 500 - 800 words an hour thanks to my little muse. I'm thinking of leaving a trail of candy on the way home to see if she'll follow me.