If we waited around for the inspiration muse to show up and get us writing, well, we would never write. Okay, rarely write.

Sure, we are inspired by everything around us and by our wild imaginations, but that won’t get us writing. We physically have to get to the paper and pen or keyboard and sit our butts down and make the words. Sometimes, it’s a fast ramble of excitement that explodes from who knows where. And, if we’re lucky, it makes sense and needs very little editing later on. If we’re lucky, it makes no sense and pushes us to something that ends up making more sense.

Sometimes, it’s crap and we toss it out and start again with words going in a different story direction…maybe a different story or character, heck new genre.

Then there are the times it’s a constipated slow peeling of an extra sticky bandage that clings to the one sensitive hair which is attached to every single nerve ending in your body that are still screaming from the triple marathon you ran in your restless sleep, the month before.

Happily, more often than not, it’s the plodding along of words that add up to more words and finally to a completed bunch of words you can now work with.

Inspiration? It knows neither heaven nor hell. I truly believe it’s a flighty little wisp of imagined mayhem which got drunk on its way to my imagination.  All it has left for me to find is tiny droplets of inspired thoughts for me to clean up to discover the diamond is ready or the coal just needs to bake a bit longer.

And that dear people is what has inspired me to write this blog posting. It seemed a good idea at the time.