Monsters and Cowboys

There is a writing opportunity peeking at me from around a corner. Its winking eyes are playful and enticing. And it looks like a fun character to hang around with.

But I haven't ventured around the corner yet.

I'm afraid those playful eyes are attached to a monster that will lead me far from home. And I'm not a monster tamer.

Or even a monster friend.

I don't know monster language or monster culture.

And I won't fit in. Monsters are big and intimidating. They can conquer big and intimidating things. I'm just me.

It's completely out of my comfort zone.

Yesterday the Cowboy and I were discussing this writing opportunity. 

Finally I said, "They need a writer. Someone who can smell the smells, see the views, hear the sounds, and make that come alive on paper. But I don't know if I'm the right one for the job."

Without a second's hesitation, the Cowboy, king of analogies, replied, "That's like a bronc rider up on the chute looking down at the bronc below and saying, 'Nope. That's not the horse for me.'
He just gets on and rides it. That's what cowboys do."

Hmmm ... I think I just took a few steps closer to those playful eyes around the corner.

Looking into Sky

This post was first published on a writers' blog to which I contribute. We were asked to answer the question - Do you have a regular system for becoming recharged for your writing?  This was my answer.


I don’t have a "regular system" for becoming recharged for writing.  I think I need to get a regular system for writing before I get a regular system for becoming recharged for writing. 

But I do know what recharges me and sparks my creativity.  

We moved to the big city almost 8 years ago.  Before that we lived in the country.  All I had to do was look out any window to be recharged.  A short walk to the burning barrel refreshed me because I was outside, listening to the trees whisper and the horses run home.  Deep breaths came easy then.

More than anything, what refreshes me is the sky.  Wide blue sea or swollen clouds, heavy grey snow sky, wind whipped mare’s tails, or starry expanse, the ever changing sky is my inspiration.  Always.

In the country I could see the sky from any window in my house.  Then we moved to the city where I had to walk to the middle of my cul-de-sac to see the sky.  But one day, when we were in the midst of a 3-year-long family crisis and my writing had taken a back seat, I did that. 

I don’t know exactly how it happened but, as I stood there smack dab in the centre of the cul-de-sac, breathing deeply and looking up into the sky, inspiration came.  She just showed up, like a child approaching with a smile.  I welcomed her and she started to tell me her story, and then I went into the house and wrote down her story. Word for word - the first chapter of my novel.

The sky does that for me, and it never disappoints.