Tag Archives: Imagination

The Idea Mill #22

It's been a while since we visited the old idea mill, and to be honest with you, it's because there haven't been that many interesting articles coming through.

I finally have three, and let's see if we can spark your imaginations.

This first one involves a bunch of old Egyptian papyrus scrolls that were discovered over a hundred years ago. Someone finally got around to looking at them, and found out they contained spells. They are written in Greek, so it must have been after some transportation entered the world.

One instructs the caster to burn some offerings in a bathhouse, and write on the bathhouse walls the desire for the Gods to “burn the heart” of a woman who scorned the caster. Men have been writing on bathroom walls ever since. Ladies, you've been warned.

The other spell tells the caster to scratch out some magical words onto a small piece of copper. Then a fix the plate to the clothing of the target victim. The victim will be forced to obey the commands of the caster. This article is silent as to what the words are, but I'm betting the word is “Imperio.”

I used a kind of Roman curse/prayer in Panama. This one involved turning a grinding stone while praying. I am aware of scratching out curses in lead, but copper is a new one.

How about it authors? Do you have any characters that need cursing? Maybe a woman scorned your character and he needs to get even. This could be even more fun because they are written in Greek. This means fraternities and sororities to me. I get an idea of a magical version of Animal House, where the locker room substitutes as the bathhouse, and Needermyer has to obey Bluto's bidding. Here is the link if you want a tiny bit more info: Curses.

The second article involves stalagmites and Neanderthals. Stalagmites are the ones that grow up from the floors of caves. Somewhere around 170,000 years ago, Mr. Neanderthal decided to kick down a bunch of these and build some stone walls. This may not seem like much, but 170,000 year old human construction is kind of impressive. They look kind of like nests to me. Check them out here: Neanderthal Construction.

Maybe these guys were so primitive they competed to actually build the best structure to impress the ladies. This is similar to nesting behaviour in other creatures. As a fiction writer, they could be anything though, including what remains of an ancient portal to another time or world. Some science cadet might figure it all out and recreate it, or predict some looming disaster. What would you do with this?

Finally we have what's being called a brain-to-brain interface. This involves wearing a fancy hat, while your friend wears another fancy hat. The lead researcher is able to control the other guy's movements by thinking about the motion. There is some interesting result with animals as well. Read a better, but longer, description here: Megamind.

I've kind of been in science fiction mode and this one gets me going. I remember a cuteish old movie called The Doberman Gang, (and one sequel) where the main character trained dogs to pull off a bank heist. This would be so much easier if I could skip the training and control them via brain-to-brain interface.

I have to admit, controlling my enemy via a curse scrawled on copper sounds a lot easier. Although, I dig a good hat, so I'm torn.

What would you do with this one? Here is your chance to mix in a little of The Fly, in an experiment that exchanges part of the mind when it goes wrong. Now you have your very own Gorilla Grod. Maybe you want to split out the good character and the bad character. The good one winds up in a Chimp who can't talk and tell someone what's wrong. The bad one goes on a rampage.

Part of this shtick is that I rough out a story using all of these elements. This is going to be a tough one, because the items are so far apart. Here goes nothing…

A sorority girl scorns a fraternity boy. He uses the whiz-bang fancy hat from the science lab to make her pay. There would certainly be towel snapping shenanigans in the girl's locker room, as verified by the geekiest of fraternity brothers and some kind of pervy spy hole.

Our heroine is mortified, and isn't participating in the dig inside the cave. She's spent most of her college career working on Neanderthal studies, and is blowing the biggest chance of her life. Fortunately, the Sorority sisters catch on.

They make her scrawl a curse onto a copper disk and slip in into the guy's underwear. Now under their total control, they make him don the fancy hat once more, and force the instructor to change her grades to something more acceptable. Maybe they also force him to streak the alumni banquet, because it is a college story. Ultimately, they force him to fall for the wallflower sorority sister that he wouldn't have spoken to otherwise.

I never said these were good stories, but I think I hit all three elements. What would you do with these?


Filed under The Idea Mill

The Idea Mill #21

It's about time for a trip to the old Idea Mill. This is a regular feature of my blog where I discuss ideas that come to me in the news.

I set up a bunch of push feeds and get news I might be interested in pushed my direction. When something clicks with me, I save the link until I have enough to make one of these posts.

The idea is that maybe it will pique your imagination too. Some of these ideas might make a great story element, others might fuel an entire novel.

Let's dive right into our first story.

We start with an outbreak in the American Midwest that's probably over by now. At the time of this article the body count is at eighteen. It involves a rare bacteria called Elizabethkingia.

This is what appeals to me. I really can't let go of a character named Elizabeth Kingia who turns out to be patient zero in a disaster story. She's a modern day Typhoid Mary who spreads a disease everywhere she goes. It wouldn't be hard to turn her into a supernatural character if that was your mindset. Maybe she's the daughter of the horseman, Pestilence.

I just love the name. I'm sorry about the real life situation, but this kind of thing lends a bit of realism to a plague story. This is a real bacteria. It's really called Elizabethkingia. It's really causing problems. You can read the article I saw here.

In this story, a mummified sailor was found floating on his yacht. It is believed he could have been dead for up to seven years. A genuine ghost ship in the modern era. Police say he split from his wife, and believe she died of cancer. He was last documented in 2009.

This kind of story can lend some real authority to any ghost ship story. There are any number of Flying Dutchman type stories, and this story gives them legs.

When I think about this story, the sailor isn't the problem. What killed him is the problem. You could put him on a spaceship, a train, or whatever you want. I see him as the opening scene in the story though. Read the article, with a picture, here.

Finally we have curses. I was first exposed to this in a television show called Rome. Curses were scratched out on sheets of lead. In this case, they had to get to the underworld, and they were placed in someone's grave. I suppose this made whoever's grave it was into some kind of afterlife messenger.

This television show caused me to research until I found the prayer/curse stones I used in Panama. Counterclockwise for a curse, clockwise for a prayer.

The story is that someone didn't like a barkeep and his wife very much. Here is the translation:

“Cast your hate upon Phanagora and Demetrios and their tavern and their property and their possessions. I will bind my enemy Demetrios, and Phanagora, in blood and in ashes, with all the dead…”

“I will bind you in such a bind, Demetrios, as strong as is possible, and I will smite down a kynotos on [your] tongue.”

One of the things that appeals to me from the article is the idea of a professional curse writer. I can imagine that writing wasn't a common skill, and that sheets of lead weren't something easily procured either. This means a professional curse writer could probably charge a steep fee. I want to be a professional curse writer in my next life. Maybe this writing gig could be more profitable then. (Just joking… Not really, I want to be a professional curse writer.)

I can imagine a husband and wife working in a city. He is a professional curse writer, she sells counter curses, like the eye amulets or phallic symbols in previous Idea Mill posts. They might make fun main characters in a con job type story. Read the story yourself here.

These are fun, because there are recent news stories to support them. Part of the Idea Mill is me coming up with a corny story that incorporates all of the ideas. My goal is to spark your imagination.

Let's say Elizabeth Kingia is spreading a disease around … Let's use Southern Europe somewhere. A professional curse writer causes her so much trouble that she flees the country on a chartered boat.

Authorities in a new country find the boat run aground. The only person aboard is the mummified captain. There is no evidence of who his passenger was, or what cargo he was hauling.

Elizabeth Kingia is free to spread the plague to England, America, Australia, wherever you want to send her. You'll have to come up with some kind of hero to chase her down, but this is the root of a story. I would probably make my hero the professional curse writer and bring his wife along for color and backup.



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The opposite of writer’s block

I've been seeing a lot of posts about writers block. Since joining Facebook, I've noticed a few over there too. I'm almost ashamed to say I've never experienced this before.

My critique group brought this up by asking, “Where do you get all these ideas from?” The short answer is my Muse, Lorelei. I believe in my Muse, and trust her. She throws things at me with the idea of seeing what sticks.

My mind looks something like this:

I have more ideas tugging at me than I can use. I've developed yet another living document for short stories. The rare one moves to a novel list. I refer to the list as soon as I finish one of my stories.

Is this a problem? It might be. I have story issues going through my head several stories ahead of where I'm typing. Some of these stories already have characters with traits and quirks. I might be better suited to develop tunnel vision and focus on the story on my iPad. It would probably speed the process up.

Right now, I'm writing a novel called The Yak Guy Project (for now). I'm also writing a retro science fiction story tentatively called Backwater Diner.

While all this is going on, I'm working out some great stuff that will see the return of Jason Fogg in another short story. I might let Jason go, but he's the best character to address a human condition that I want to talk about. His special condition lets him see a part of our makeup that others cannot. In order to do this he needs some fatal flaws to address himself, and I have some decent ideas on that front too.

I also have a great idea that involves a grown up Pete Rogers. Pete was a supporting character from Will O' the Wisp. Apparently all the scary stuff up Bergamot Holler hasn't been addressed yet.

My short story list has 26 items on it. I've already written some, and may never write them all. Newer items will hit the list, and maybe one of those is a better idea.

The plus side is that I can put out another Experimental Notebook eventually. I get to explore more conditions and situations than if I limited myself to novels. I'll need some Macabre Macaroni stories next October, and maybe some of these will fit that bill.

The down side is focus. It's hard to concentrate on Yak Guy and do his research when Jason Fogg is haunting my thoughts.

I'm glad I don't get writer's block, but my mind comes with its own special needs. Does anyone else have this problem, or am I the only one?


Filed under Writing

The Idea Mill #15

A quick note for those who are new to The Idea Mill. I have several different push feeds that I check on a daily basis. I have them set up to push information about topics that interest me. I find it easier to keep updated on certain topics to keep my imagination well fueled. Maybe one of these posts will spark your imagination.

Underwater archaeologists recently discovered a huge monolith off the coast of Sicily. It is approximately 12 meters long, and I’m going to guess for the Americans in the audience that it’s about 15 feet. If you really care, you can do your own conversion.

This stone has three large holes drilled through it, and dates back to the last ice age. Apparently, this area was an island back then. It indicates a sophisticated society existed on the island that long ago. They were capable of harvesting and carving a stone that large. It also appears they transported it to its location.

I’m not intirely convinced that it isn’t from a later shipwreck, but let’s go with the story. It could lend a lot of credence to stories about more sophisticated prehistoric cultures. There has been some debate as to whether the earliest humans possessed a language. They would have had to if they were going to pull off this project. Here is some credibility if you want to write about intelligent cavemen. Maybe ancient aliens is your thing. Go crazy here. The article I read is here. Big old whoppin’ underwater rock.

It looks like we’re sticking with archaeology today. This story is from Ireland, and I’ve seen it on a blog or two. It appears that an ancient beech tree blew over in a storm. The exposed root ball contained half of a skeleton dating back to +/- 1100 AD. The other half is there, and the tree tore it in half when it fell. It appears to be the remains of a tall teenage boy. The body has evidence of stab wounds.

This is almost like the opening wet scene from any episode of Bones. It would be a great beginning for a mystery. I write speculative stuff, so I might turn it into some kind of ancient spell, or even turn the kid into a monster that is finally free of the tree planted to keep him down. Maybe I’d release an ancient disease instead. Here is the article: Big old whoppin’ dead tree.

In this story, scientists discovered the skeletons of 15 humans of a previously unknown species. They stood anywhere from 3.5 to 5 feet tall, and had smaller brains than expected. (I think some of that genetic trait is still present in some Idaho drivers.)

They are calling them humans, and they represent something new to us. The species is very old, but these remains are newer than expected. This almost certainly means they lived side by side with more modern humans. They also appear to have been intentionally placed in this cave. That could mean they had death rituals, or that whatever killed them had death rituals.

There was a time when science fiction concentrated on lost worlds. These guys could make great antagonists in an exploration type story. Your intrepid hero is hacking his way through the jungle, (because it really should be a jungle) when he’s attacked by munchkins who aren’t very smart. They make up for it in numbers and determination. What’s worse than Bigfoot? Fifteen Littlefoots with bad attitudes. Here is the article: Not so big or whoppin’ early humans.

I can’t let this one be entirely about archaeology. I can’t predict the stuff I’m going to find, and lately that’s what I’ve unearthed. This one is a bit different. It’s called What to do when Someone Gives you a Giant Squid.

The title alone intrigues me. This would make an hilarious mad science handbook. It might make a great graphic novel too.

In a nutshell, some fishermen hauled this thing in and called some posh museum in London. They created what amounts to a gigantic pickle jar and shoved her inside. There are some great details of the ammonia smell giant squid have and how it smells like urine. Awesome stuff for your novel.

The scary part is the weaponry this thing packs. The suckers are ringed with tiny teeth that equal razor blades. The scientists ruined a few pairs of gloves wrangling this thing into it’s pickle jar. I call this article, Big old whoppin’ dead squid.

These guys are awesome for fiction. We are pretty helpless in the water, and that ramps up the scary part. Add in those razor edged suckers, and even survival might mean ringing the dinner bell for something else.

Maybe you want to turn this into a mad science story, and release a creature that smells like pee, and has concertina wire tentacles, loose on London

Part of the shtick is for me to outline one story incorporating all these articles. Here goes nothing…

Our hero discovers a skeleton in the bole of a fallen tree. The skeleton holds a cryptic map to the Lost Dutchman of King Solomon’s Crown Jewels. In Africa he gets ambushed by a bunch of tiny cavemen, and survives by swimming into the ocean. He spies a huge monolith under the water. It turns out to be the Lighthouse that marks the site of the LDKSCJ. After his rescue, he returns with a ship only to find the LDKSCJ is guarded by a giant squid whose suckers can eat holes through a ship. Instead of Hook’s crocodile with the ticking clock, you can smell the squid coming. Use the smell like the theme song from Jaws, and have everyone panic when random sailor # 1 pees over the rail of the ship. (No more asparagus aboard this ship.)

Do any of these articles spark your imaginations? Would you ever use one of these as the basis for a novel? As one element of the story? Let me hear about it in the comments.


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Writing: Inclusive or Exclusive?

I’m just thinking with my fingers on the keyboard tonight. I think I’m on to something and writing it out helps me. Maybe one of my commenters can add something to clarify it. I may be adding some of this to my living document soon.

Some story elements come across to me as being inclusive or exclusive for the reader. There have been good stories written both ways. I’m convinced this is not a popularity contest, but I’ll keep an open mind in the comments.


In my definition, the reader could participate as one of the characters in the story. There is a special world, but it’s within the reader’s reach.

The best example I can come up with is the Harry Potter world. Some magical folk are born to muggle parents. Since the idea isn’t delved into in depth, the reader can keep the hope alive.

These stories include Kung Fu ideas, sports stories, sword swingers and more. The idea is that if one trains hard enough, it is possible to join the cool kids.


The world element excludes the reader from playing along. It’s possible that stories about Royal families would feel exclusive to the reader. This doesn’t mean we don’t like reading along, but that world isn’t our world. Stories about oracles and seers might feel the same way, depending on the point of view. Some sports movies could also come across this way, depending upon how elite the event is.

I think maybe The DaVinci Code type stories could fit this category. The world is so unique, and small, I have a hard time joining the search. Doesn’t mean they aren’t fun reading. Like I said, I’m thinking as I write this.

One thing I’m convinced of: the author has to pick a lane and stay with it. Let me illustrate with the big failure of Star Wars. In 1977, I could have become a Jedi. All I had to do was harness the power of The Force. It remained that way for a couple of decades. You know you tried to move that gum wrapper using The Force, just admit it. I did.

In 1999 everything changed. The description of how metachlorians work excluded me from The Force. Now it’s just a consequence of birth. The franchise lost some charm for me. I’d already formed an opinion, and I was wrong +/-20 years later.

I think it’s important to establish this element early, and to stick with it. It’s like the lesson to establish a character description early, or not at all. Dumping it in chapter 12 will conflict with visuals the reader already has.

I had a mild idea of this when writing The Cock of the South. I wanted readers to imagine the story going on. I wanted the reader to believe they could join the Black Hats, or the Amazons. I even made sure humans were welcome in this society. I’m not saying this is a better way to go. I am saying I challenge myself with each story, and this was one of my challenges.

This has nothing to do with sequels. I’m not in love with them, but would consider it if sales justified it.

A story about Major League Baseball probably excludes most people. (And all women.) A story about a child who works hard and makes it to the majors, probably includes most readers. (This could be a female breakthrough story.)

Thinking about Wild Concept, it’s exclusive. None of us will ever be an experimental robot. What if I’d written it from a different point of view? What if I’d added a sidekick/biographer as the point of view character. Readers might imagine having a robotic friend. Maybe??

I’m looking for an element of clarity here. Writing it out helped some. Let me hear it in the comments. Am I close to a breakthrough, or just confusing myself? Is one style better than another?


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A New Frenemy



I got an early start at the writing cabin. I pushed the gyro copter onto the elevator and went in through the basement, like I always do.

Lisa was already in the lobby with her pet rabbit. Today she had a trunk and a small suitcase.

“What’s going on, Lisa?”

“If you’re not writing my sequel, I might as well stay out here. I like my little house in town, but I’m already spending all my time here anyway. Besides, you don’t live here.”

I wrapped a hand around my beard and stalled. “I, um. I guess that would be okay.”

“It’s an imaginary cabin where you play with your imaginary friends. I need you to imagine a nice bedroom with a bath upstairs. And a closet, a walk in closet. And wifi, and lots of plug ins so I can keep my batteries charged. And I want one of those fancy computers like you wrote for Dr. Pennington.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard, I guess. I came here to work on my manuscript though.”

“And I don’t want to interfere with that. You usually burn out by noon anyway. I’ll fix you some lunch and you can scribble me off a few paragraphs.”

“Deal. Now let me get started.” I went into my office and fired up my iPad. I shut the door when I heard, “Oh Bunny, it’s going to be so beautiful, blah, blah, blah…

Words flowed this morning. I managed nearly two thousand of them. I stopped for some research and scribbled some notes on a little pad I keep by my desk. I’d work the details in later.

UPS showed up with a bronze tree in a beautiful oak base. “Where do you want it, Pal?”

Lisa said, “Lorelei just texted. It goes in your office.”

I held the door for him and he placed it in the corner by the window.

I grabbed a fresh coffee and sat back down. Lorelei came strutting through my door. She had on a red cloak with a white fur trim, the huge hood was pulled over her head. Her brown leather boots covered her jeans up to her knees. That’s just Lorelei, she’s always very stylish. It was what she brought with her that was disturbing.

A huge raven perched on her shoulder. It was anthracite black and at least twenty percent bigger than any raven I’d ever seen. He had long pointed feathers under his bill, like a short beard. “There you go, baby,” she pointed at the bronze tree.

The raven flew across my office and landed on the tree. He pecked at my log wall like he was a building inspector.

“Hi, um, Lorelei. What’s going on here?”

“I brought him back from Mt. Olympus. You need him.” She took a bottle of Smart Water from her purse and folded one of the bronze leaves into a dish. She filled it up, and poured some seeds and nuts into another one.

“Yeah, Merry Christmas and all, but I don’t think I need a pet. Besides, Bunny is moving in with Lisa.”

“Bunny won’t improve your writing. The bird’s name is Doubt.”

“What am I supposed to do with him? I don’t need one of Odin’s cast offs.”

“Wrong pantheon, nice try. For now, look at him. Acknowledge that he exists. When you understand that lesson, he’ll teach you another.”

Doubt flew over to my desk and stole my pen. He banged it against one of his bronze branches.

“I can’t write if I can’t jot down notes. And just listen to that racket.”

“Maybe you’re finished then. Or it could just be an excuse.”

“I don’t get it?”

“People invent excuses when they doubt themselves.”

I held up a finger and said, “Ah, I get it. You think I’ve been doubting myself. Or maybe you think I need to doubt myself more. Damn it, now I’m doubting myself.” I walked to the window and opened it, “You ever heard the expression, ‘Doubt flew right out the window’?”

Doubt glared at me. Kaw Kaw.

Lorelei said, “Looks like he wants to stay.”

I opened my drawer and took out another pen. I held it towards Lorelei and said, “Ha!”

“You’ve just taken a baby step to overcoming Doubt. He has many more lessons to teach. You’ll improve your characters, your choice of words, many things. You said you tend to see every wart on everything you’ve ever created. When you overcome Doubt, you’ll start ignoring those parts and seeing the good parts for what they really are.”

She stood up and placed another log in my fireplace. “I’m always around, and I’ll show up when you need me. Right now, there’s a sale on Jimmy Choos, gotta go.”

Lisa was listening at the door. “Can I come too? I love shoes.” She turned toward me, “Can you watch Bunny for awhile? And keep him away from that bird, he doesn’t like him. Don’t forget to write me some garage space too, I don’t like it when my motorcycle gets covered with snow.”

Lorelei said, “Sure, we can take my Beemer. I’ll have her back in time for you to get home. Ta.” She flicked her wrist and they left.

I was tempted to overcome Doubt with a piece of firewood, and write Lisa a cave to live in. But hey, nearly 2000 words today.

Kaw, Kaw!

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Meet Lorelei, the Muse

It was the early 1980s and I was pouting. I was working as a pen and ink draftsman. There were no fancy computers to make maps back then. I can say with some certainly, that I was the best Leroy man in Northern Nevada. (If you know what that means, you’re getting old.) We’d just bought a new computer, and this one was pretty high tech. It came with two floppy disk drives. (It didn’t have a hard drive.)

My boss told me I’d have to use the computer to add all the sworn statements and jurats to my maps. They were printed on a sticker, and were about as soulless as they sound.

That’s when she approached me for the first time. She had poofy brunette hair, spandex pants, and roller-skates. They were the old kind, before they put the wheels inline. Her body was curvy in all the right places, but solid, like an athlete.

“Why don’t you just slip in after hours and learn to use the word processor?” she asked.

“Who are you, and how do you know about our computer?” I asked back.

“I’m Lorelei, and I’m a muse. These things are going to change the world, and you’d better get used to them.”

“I don’t recall any muse named Lorelei.”

“The first muses were named thousands of years ago. Did you ever read stories where the Gods kept their pants zipped?”

“I see where you’re going. What do you think I should do?”

She talked me into trying, nothing more. I went back to the office in the evenings and wrote Star Trek fan fiction for months. I never finished a story. The word processor became just another tool, and I moved on. I printed my work, on tractor paper, and lost it when I moved.

We lost touch. Maps became soulless things drawn entirely by computer. I might as well have been the village blacksmith for all the value my training had.

Decades later I got my first iPad. It was winter, and I’d just conquered the internet. I swear, there wasn’t one thing I hadn’t seen or done online. It was too cold to go fishing, and times were so bad I couldn’t afford the fuel anyway.

“Why don’t you try it again?” I heard over my shoulder.

I snapped around, and there she was. It was five AM, and she was in my living room. She had on a pair of Sponge Bob pajamas and brought fresh coffee. Her hair was just as long, but the style was different.

“I’ve held down several careers since I saw you. Why come back now?” I asked.

“It hasn’t been that long to me. You have imagination, and you really need to try again. It looks like you have time available too.”

“What am I even supposed to do?”

“Like I told you before, just try. You have a pretty powerful device there. These things have really improved since the last time.”

I started writing. My first complete novel was written using the iPad and two thumbs, seriously.

She stopped in from time to time and helped me get unstuck. Sometimes she rode in the car during my commute. She encouraged me to start reading everything I could about writing. Bulletin boards, articles, and blogs flashed before my eyes. There were even a few books she told me to get.

My first story sucked, but I enjoyed it. I wrote another one, using the same characters. Lorelei wasn’t intrusive, she just let me write whatever I wanted. She encouraged me to drop whole chapters, and change thoughts days after writing them down. I had two steampunk stories finished, and she never said a disparaging word. I even went so far as to ask for a bluetooth keyboard for Christmas.

We were driving home from work one day and she said, “You need an office.”

“I can’t afford a space on my income,” I said. “You know that.”

“Not that kind of office, Slick. This kind exists in your mind. It’s the next step in your education. You go there, and I’ll send characters for you to interview. Check them out, when one feels right you write down a few lines and see where it goes.”

“So are you telling me it’s time to give up my steampunk world and those characters?”

“Yup. There are more places for you to visit and stories for you to tell.”

“Could it be a cabin in the woods somewhere, instead of a cubicle of some kind?”

“Sure, it’s anything you want it to be. Your steampunk characters can come visit. In fact, all your characters can stop by for coffee or something. It’s just time to think a little bigger.”

The writing cabin became a regular thing. I wrote four more novels, and they got better. Some of my characters visit on occasion, and Lisa, from Wild Concept, sticks around and works as my secretary. She’s a robot whose story will go up on Amazon someday soon.

Lorelei visits all the time now. It seems like the more I write, the more she visits. She’s never judgmental, and always encourages me to try a bit harder. Now she wants me to put some of my stories online. Whether they sell or not, isn’t the important thing. This is a growth phase for me. I trust Lorelei enough to try.

I really hope they sell, and I’m going to put some of them out for the world to see. I know I’ll learn something, and some of you might enjoy the ride.

Let’s get these comments going. Does anyone else have a muse? I know Lorelei has sisters, her sister Lucille has her name written across a guitar neck.

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