inspiration

Oh, mighty Muse, I bow before thee – or a writer’s odd relationship with her subconscious

All writers have some sort of muse. Some call it their “mojo”, others – especially if they’re Spanish-speaking – may call it “duende”.  Some writers don’t have a name for this invisible presence that sometimes breathes VERY heavily down their neck. Me, I call my muse Ms Inspiration. I envision a lady of multiple contradictions: […]

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When my imaginary taskmasker wields the whip – a post about inspiration and discipline

“No inspiration,” I sometimes sigh, while staring at the screen which remains enervatingly blank. And yes, inspiration is a must when it comes to writing—if nothing else as the igniting spark—but there’s another component which is just as important: discipline. “Of course,” my very own muse, Ms Inspiration says. For the day, she’s wearing a

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When the irrelevant becomes relevant

When I first started toying with the idea of maintaining a blog, I had this vision of a two-way communication with the world. People, I thought, would read and enjoy and occasionally leave a comment that would confirm they’d seen me, heard me. And boy, doesn’t that make me sound needy? Maybe I was. These

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When Ms Inspiration went Greek Myth

My mother was a teacher. She taught languages and literature and accordingly my sister and I grew up surrounded by stories – and with a grammar police. The grammar thing turned out useful if not overly exciting. Yes, both my sister and I know how to decline verbs in various languages, know the difference between

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A fickle taskmaster

Inspiration is a fickle thing. It’s not as if you can sit down at your computer, crack your knuckles and say, “right; it’s 19:00 p.m. Time for some serious inspiration.” Generally, my brain will blank out entirely when faced with an expectation to be creative. “Nope,” it will say, shrinking away to sulk in a

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When sitting in an armchair isn’t enough…

… I write. What I mean is that when it no longer suffices to sit and dream about travelling to other times, other places, I write about them instead.  A most economical and safe form of time travel. When I was a child, I ran around with a wooden shield and sword, pretending to be

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My Next Big Thing – religious conflict in Lowland Scotland

When Barbara Gaskell Denvil asked me if I wanted to participate in the Next Big Thing ”bloghop”, I was thrilled – and intimidated. Now the funny thing about Barbara nominating me, is that our main characters share a name. Her Alex (in Satin Cinnabar) is a man attempting to find his feet in a society 

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