THE WORLD is Our Muse

Hello readers, I love you! Those of you who sneak about reading me when you don’t know I can see you (I saw that, cute), those of you who follow me and comment, and those of you who hate my guts but like a bad train wreck you just can’t look away. I get that when I try to dance too, but I’m not going there today.

Use what you know as a muse, This isn’t just about occupation or where you live, this isn’t just about sappy feelings (yes I’ve been sappy lately, leave me alone already! I still fantasize on various torture techniques at the blah-job), I’m talking about those you disagree with, fight with, lock horns, etc.

We all have our opinions; they matter because it’s who we are. And no matter how much we might want to connect, there will always be conflict. It’s unavoidable. You’re logic verses mine, your hundred facts against my hundred facts. We could spend a week just writing enough online posts to fill a book each on our side along with a work’s cited. Sometimes it’s kept classy, sometimes it’s messy. We pull back asking ourselves why do we put ourselves out there only to draw back with a headache? There are those days where we just get so overwhelmed with what we see as stupidity, and then those on the other side come back with their version. I use to shy away from it after putting myself out there too much, not anymore. Now I just keep it contained.

You see it’s all about regulation. That seems to be everyone’s favorite new word these days next to swag (one of the times I’ll ever use that word). The key is to pick your fights, what hill do you wish to defend? And how far are you willing to go to defend it?

I get pretty worked up over some issues, but I do try to keep it classy. Not always easy, but I’m getting better at it. Remember that those you lock horns with are people with good hearts and are dedicated to their creeds just like us. Give them their due, a lot of people these days are apathetic, at least they have passion.

But use it. A lot of the times these people are writers too, and they will use you in some way or another. Who knows, maybe you’ll end up slowly tortured to death in one of their stories, again all about being a muse. I’m cool with it because I write what I know.

How does one justify the things that’s accepted by modern day society that I detest? Well start a debate and find out. People can justify anything, if you saw the world the way I do, you would know exactly what I mean. We’re some sick puppies, and not in a cute fun way (like me :^D) The world is our muse, we learn from it. Authors say we shouldn’t write what we know, but write about what we don’t, or something along those lines. Good advice, but also try knowing something that is outside your knowledge.

Think in the terms of being a FBI profiler (or as they are actually referred to as, a supervisory agent). Those guys put themselves in the mind of a killer in order to catch him/her. They start with how the UNSUB (unknown subject) looks at everything. From a pack of smokes to the way blood cascades down a window. How does a male UNSUB think of women? What is it that drives their urge crazy? Why do they want to kill? Is it just an urge? Or is there a deeper reason? How do they justify killing? When the urge is fed, what do they have to say for themselves?

People are who they are, good, bad, or most of the time gray. Everyone has a different truth, different common sense. We’re never going to understand everyone and why they believe what they do, but we can pick brains, and use it. Hell, you can make your protagonist a person who’d completely disagree with in real life. I actually suggest it. Writing outside of our comfort zone is a good thing. If we can make a believable and even loveable character from someone we’d oppose in the real world, then we are creating something amazing.

This goes back to my comment of making mince-meat out of lemons. What bothers you? What do you stand for and against? If you find my opinions stupid, ignorant, or just plain wrong, then why do you stick around? Am I like a trained ape to you? It’s okay if I am. That makes me a muse. I’m okay with it because I’m guilty of it too. The world can be beautiful, but it can be so very dark, and not in an entertaining way. We are creators making art to move or entertain each other. We may not all be rocket scientists, but everyone of us have our own evil brilliance. We contribute a piece of ourselves that non-artists can’t. We’re special, and so we feed on the world.

One more thing in honor of someone I once cared about who left me on bad terms a few years ago who recently came back to mend fences. A lot of us are hurt in a way that’s destructive to our lives and those around us. We push each other away instead of embracing each other. Even if you’re not an artist, you can inspire or be inspired. You can use your pain to help others, and you can find refuge in the arms of someone who cares. None of it’s easy; life gives us a shit sandwich heavy on the shit-sauce. And we’re not allowed to complain or take it to work. We’re supposed smile and not let it show while it tears our insides apart like a pack of hellhounds.

The world is also your muse. Use it. Thrive in it. It’s a dark world to everyone, no one has a monopoly on suffering. Not you not me. However, in pain we are united. I’m thankful I can get to know someone who mattered very much to me all over again. The person I saw that she couldn't see now thrives. She cared enough to change her life, and she didn’t do it alone. She found inspiration from caring people, and she wanted to better herself. She’s my hero.

I have known her in darkness, and now I know her in the light.

Life's a muse, you’re a muse, I’m a muse, those we love and hate are muses. Take it all in and create, in words, in paint, or just by living your life. I mentioned non-artists earlier in the post, that’s kind of an oxymoron when you think about, almost everyone is an artist. We create it by living, and if we recognize it, and accept it, we can thrive. And that’s a story worth writing about :^)

WRITING From Oblivion

Here is a link I think all writers should read. Actually, read all of Chuck's posts. He knows his stuff. This post made me think of this post. Chuck talks about not caring when you write, because as writers we care so much, that we freeze up. And then our stories don't get written.

When I really tried soooo hard to write my novel series back in the day, I worked, and worked to try to make it perfect. You know what? They are still not finished. BUT, since I have basically "cared less", I have finished short stories, and a novella. I write faster, and yes, even better.

Once I gave myself permission to fail, I succeeded. The obsession of perfection is one of the leading causes of performance anxiety, AKA, writer's block. It is the fuel to fear. Come up with a decent idea, throw it down on paper, and follow through until fruition. Then, draft it, and try to make it perfect. "Try", because there is no perfect. Just your best, but your best comes after The End of draft one.

No one becomes Stephen King over night, not even King himself. Only through the maddening of failure, and overwhelming odds can we flourish. Conflict gives writers the fuel they need to create. That is why some of the best works come from some of the worst times in the author's life. Own it, don't let it own you.

The very crap, the bane of your existence is fodder for the muse. Life can really suck, but it can suck less if you use it. In a short story I'm keeping on the back burner for now, I use so much of my own crap. I won't get into the details, as a lot of it will be obvious in the story, though some of it is changed based on the character's experience. I use it. My life may never get any better. My bane may only grow worse, but that doesn't mean my writing has to suffer. (Which this post kind of reflects one of my previous posts on how ignorant people inspire me)

I can't offer professional tips like an author with decades of bestsellers, but I can offer what “I”, as a student who is slowly achieving his dreams, has gone through.

When I was working so hard before, I had few people who could help me. It took me forever to get a computer to work on, so my social media was zilch. But since getting connected, I have met several authors who are far more professional than me, have achieved far me than me, who have been amazing enough to help me. I try not to ask too much because they are very busy, but still they have done more for me than I have ever hoped.

A writer starting out needs more than a “how to write” book, though a few of those are a good place to start, (like Plot And Structure, by James Scott Bell or On Writing, by Stephen King). Writers need other writers who have been there, done that, and got the kick-in-the-junk to prove it. So to speak.

It is from those writers that we who reach for the glory of being published learn. Not only do they offer their experience, but can direct to to how-to books to read, and blogs with tips that can make you into a great author. Though, that mainly comes from you willing to craft and hone your skills by reading, writing, reading, writing, reading, writing, then editing, editing, editing, writing, reading, etcetera. Which will come in handy when reading said blogs and how-to books. I can point you in the direction, but the ability to make-it or break-it, is completely up to you. It all boils down to what you are made of.

Me, I'm just a schmuck who slaves away in fast food, who has done so for the pass thirteen years. But yet, here I am, intellectually flipping the bird to my self-doubt, to my enemies who said I couldn't do it, and I'M DOING IT.

I always try to be humbled. I hate people who hold their nose so high that I pray for rain. But, to myself, and to my enemies, I am the end-all, be-all. I will win, I will succeed. But I have to continue to earn that. I can't just say it and be a superstar. It takes daily work. Even if I'm not at the keyboard, I am reading newspapers, books, magazines, and yes even Facebook updates. A lot of my writing has improved by comments that I wrote then deleted. Most of my comments you never see. Because I will go on a great rant then realize two things: one, nobody is going to care. Or two: this is going to start world-war-three. Possibly bring a zombie-apocalypse down on the whole world. But the practice I get from it makes me a better writer. Some of it I even save.

Becoming a success is not about writing the next great American novel, it's about a lifestyle, about always being in thought, always writing, reading your craft. This isn't just a job, or a hobby (and never tell a writer that is a hobby, we will gouge out your eyeballs with our pens), or sitting on our butts doing nothing (never tell a writer that the are or the same fate will ensue), or something we aspire at (never tell yourself you are an aspiring author, I will thump you). It is you. If you want it bad enough that you have to have it, then claim it! You write, you are a writer. It is who you are even when the pen itself is not in your hand. The muse inside never goes away. Sometimes she/he lurks in the shadows, falls asleep, but the muse is always there.

You think in the classic Star Wars movies, that Luke Skywalker stopped being a Jedi the moment his lightsaber went back into the hilt? No. Yes, he always had the force, but, the muse is like the force. It is always with you. The more you depend on the muse, the stronger it becomes. And the more you read, the more you look at the world, and people through the lens of storytelling. The reason is, the muse is feeling the itch of creativity.

Though I suggest as much as possible you keep a pen and pad on your person at all times, always allow your mind to create even when you can't write it down. Think of it as Jedi training. Focus. A writer does not be come a writer without focus.

Just some thoughts on the subject, I hope this helps a little, and remember to keep writing. Keep reading. And when you finish a draft, keep editing. At least for three or four drafts. Check out some of my favorite links in my blog-roll to your right. I have blogs on that list that post the most often, and they are awesome blogs for writers.

See ya around!

Inspiration After Death

In the last few days, I have lost my grandmother. It was her time and she was ready to go. It was so hard because she was one of the loveliest people you could ever meet. The day she passed, I was at home trying to sleep. I woke up after a few hours of sleep, but couldn't go back. I was about to crack open a book when my dad knocked on my door to give me the news. Immediately I said take me to the hospital. His reaction, "why?". Even after explaining to him that I wanted to be there for my mother he still couldn't understand.

Everyone has their point of view on death, but in mine I believe when someone passes on, you are there for those who are deeply effected. Not to mention, that is what my grandmother would have wanted. If nothing else, she inspires to be there for others, at least others who need it the most.

Although grandma is gone, and she is in a place of no more pain or sorrow, her legacy will always live on in one way or another. She was the kind of person who could inspire a person to be better when they couldn't have done so on their own. Even after death. She was also so happy for me when she heard that I will soon be a published author thanks to a great friend of mine giving me an opportunity. My stories wouldn't be her cup of tea, but she was still so proud of me. Her name will be at the top on my dedication in my first published book.

She continues to inspire me. As she was on her death bed, I couldn't but think about someone else who passed a couple of years ago. This someone made some choices that has deeply hurt the family. And when he moved on, it was like a dark cloud passed over and sunlight returned. Well in my mind, I was thinking what if this was a story? Now I have a supernatural love story in my outlines for future stories, and one with a happy ending.

My grandmother in my opinion, is one of the biggest contributors of good genes in the family when it comes to kindness. For my side of the family, I always looked at her as the heart of the family.

In the inspiration that continues, my grandmother will always encourage me, even though I know she is completely gone from this world. Her ideals, her grace, and her belief in me as a person, and writer.

I told her before I left the ICU room, I would see her later. Though I couldn't keep that promise here on Earth, I will make good on it someday. And until then, carve out some legacy of my own.

In loving memory of Joan (pronounced Jo-Ann) Ford

Words, Love, and the Pursuit of Happiness

By Dale Eldon

 Authors and the writing that spawns to life from their fingertips are connected. Every author has a different take on how it works, but from my point of view, the author and the muse are simpatico.


The core element for good writing has to come from happiness. In order for the right words to appear, the love has to be at the center of the core.


In order for any decent writing to come from me, the muse and I have to be in sync. It is impossible for her and I to coexist if we are not in harmony. The life we share is symbiotic. Each needing the other to become more then we would be apart. A lot like a good marriage. The problem here, is that the muse is a part of my mind. Sure she gets fired up over external inspirations, but she is basically an alter ego. So when I am in a slump, usually so is she. We are that connected. No matter how much I try to be happy, or even if I am in a decent mood it just isn’t the same as being happy naturally. The muse craves the same things that I do. Love.


I love my family. I love my friends. But so often I feel like a drifter in the middle of the ocean. I am sprawled out in a life raft looking through pictures of better times as my body slowly dies of dehydration. Here I am surrounded by water, and I can’t drink any of it. That is how my life feels. I have plenty of reasons to be happy, but I still cannot have these reasons to embrace. They are like the water. I can see them, but I cannot touch them.


My muse withers with me. In symbiotic relationship, we need each other to survive. We are not just compatible, if that were the case, then we could leave the other and no damage would be done. We would just seek out a new partner. But like soul mates, we hinge on the other without draining ourselves. Together we are a force. The muse, however, cannot pull me out of the slump. As strong willed as she is, my emotions ultimately control her.


Its strange, a lot of the time I don’t realize just how far out in the vast aquatic desert I have drifted. The longer I am stranded, the worst my mental condition becomes. The brain parasite called, “self pity” slowly eats away at any hope of happiness. It then continues to make me jaded, and diminishes my zest for the wonders of life. The once happy-go-lucky me is now becoming an empty shell for this parasite to live.


As much as I may have going for me (as I have been told by supporters), I am still drifting in this raft. From time to time I will see a search and rescue chopper fly overhead, but usually they don’t see me. I try to get their attention, but it is useless. Then when all hope is lost I see an angel. So far every time an angel appears to me, she is only around for a short time. And every time she gives me a little strength to push on. And again, an angel has appeared to me. The purest to visit yet, and again I feel my soul being rejuvenated. There is never a guarantee if the angel will stick around. There are so many factors that have to work for her to. But this angel is different than the others. She is extra special. Her grace makes me forget the raft, the dehydration, the self-pity; suddenly I am reforged.


I don’t know how long this angel will stay with me. What I do know is, for every moment I have with her, I am that much more thankful for. Somehow this beautiful creation of God has opened something up in my mind that I cannot open on my own. Not even my muse can reach this area. My dear angel who doesn’t have to try, she is a natural at bringing me back to life. And when I am in her presence I the aquatic desert become a tropical paradise.


So, what have I learned? How have I changed?


I have learned that no matter how much I work on bettering myself, that I will never be the man I want or need to be on my own. I need my angel. Just like my muse, I need that simpatico relationship. For I alone cannot live without her. One person cannot live in a symbiotic relationship. It is impossible. Perhaps angels are suppose to come and go until one decides to stay. Maybe this angel is the one. Maybe not. Regardless, I am thankful for her. Even if she only here to wake me up and show me this side of life.


It is easy to forget who we are as depression eats away at our soul. And like any good parasite the self-pity is inconspicuous as it slowly destroys us. The words cannot flow without love, and without love there is not happiness.


For some writers this darkness works for them. And I am glad that they have that as a muse. But for a lot of us we need that love. It can appear in many forms. I talk of my angel who is a beautiful woman from another country with view point that is refreshing, and creative. She can child like, but still be adult. She is intelligent, and graceful. This someone I would love to get to know more, and spend as much time with her as God will allow. That for me is the love. I have a beautiful daughter who also inspires me, though at this point I am in a position where I can’t be there for her. And though she the most important thing in my life, I need to be able to be apart of hers. And I cannot do that in this raft.


A lot of us have our own problems. No one has a monopoly on suffering. With that said pain is something that unites us. The despair that becomes the bane of our existence, is with most writers. Just because we may have a different way of looking at life, doesn’t limit our despair. In a lot of ways it increases it. A lot of writers become more sensitive to the world around them, they have to if they want their characters to come life. Even if the author is writing a non-fiction title, they can get so wrapped up in a person that they are writing about that they can feel their pain. Writers are conduits of emotions, ideas, and philosophies. We absorb mindsets that we may not even agree with, we take in the world of others, understanding their world better then they might themselves.


It is important to find that love. To find that ballast. Maybe even several loves. Like children, spouse, and other family, God; just like a tanker having more than one anchor to hold it in place. Love is the ballast that keeps us steady, it is what drives us, and completes us. Even if we are without what we need most, we need to keep our eyes on it at all times.