I have this urge to . . .
WRITE! I don’t know where the urge comes from, why I’m doing this, or why, in some ways, it defines me as a person. It (writing) is just something I do.
I love to write, to delve into the depths of my imagination, to touch upon, chaos, depravity, humor, anger, pain, and redemption . . . as well as a ton of other things as well.
I like to wrap fiction around fact, and intersperse fact into my fiction.
I’ve created kings and queens with the magic of my mind. My characters have saved damsels in distress, slain dragons, wielded magic swords, and traveled to places deep within my imagination. I’ve created characters who have suffered pain and humiliation, made wrong choices in life, and somehow found redemption in the end. I’ve created characters who cannot be redeemed, no matter the desire of their creator.
I’ve killed off a character or two for the sake of drama.
My characters have discovered horrible secrets that forever changed their lives.
A man with a gun plays a pivotal role in one manuscript.
A woman betrayed plays a role in two manuscripts.
Margaritas play a role here, there, and everywhere.
There’s this drag queen – quite voluptuous, plump really, well, overly plump – who likes to wear sparkly dresses that are so tight, if a sequin were to suddenly fly off, there’s a good chance someone standing nearby might lose an eye. Oh, and she’s actually a fairy godmother, low on the totem of fairy godmothers, who has a battered wand and a faux rhinestone tiara. She may or may not be a figment of a character’s stressed out imagination.
There are three queens, two human, and one dragon, who will change the fate of a world.
The gods are not dead, they are just sleeping soundly as they await the change of Ages when once again they will rise to power . . . though the power will not be what they once held.
There is a desolate valley . . .
You see, the images come into my mind, often without prompting, and I put pen to paper (or rather fingers to keyboard) and let my imagination run free. I don’t stop it from running, I don’t rein it in, I just let it go and do what it wants to do, explore whatever realms it wants to explore, and hope, beyond hope, that my Muses are always with me.
Question: Why do you write?