If there was ever a truth I struggled with, it was this. Being busy doesn’t necessarily mean being productive.
I do not have a half-naked Greek Goddess of muse and inspiration lying across my bed. Inspiration doesn’t work like that.
Because no matter what we write, we must give some of ourselves over the story, to the writing, to the characters, the sacrifice every writer must make to get it right.
The themes and lessons so to speak, that show up in my books are more a reflection of my own deep and fundamental values, things that I feel are important, beliefs that I have that I need my characters to share.
In the modern day, traditional media and marketing are no longer effective and it’s up to us as authors to find the right balance. Which is really hard.
For a blissful moment, all is silent. And then, as if the harpies of Hades have decided to torment the frustrated writer just a little bit longer, there is a scurry of nails. And another, until a full on squirrel orgy/disco/gladiator match is in swing in the rafters above my head.
Where cooking is my portraits, baking is my African Masks, the art in which I both excel and create, an activity that, like writing, drives something strong and creative from deep inside.