This month’s blog chain for Absolute Write is on the subject “Muses”. Sadly this month was busy for most of the past participants and so myself and BBBurke have tackled this subject.


Just a small preface: I am going to be honest. But I am not going to use names as I don’t know if the two people who this is about will read this. I am not famous and we do not move in the same circles. And I am afraid what contact I do have I will lose. At times I feel as if I have reached a stalker status, but I don’t think I have. Funny that , huh?

Is it possible to be inspired and intimidated by someone at the same time?

I am simply writing about my muse. Oddly enough I found him on Instagram, and his influence fanned out from there. I had written a few stories, gotten maybe two out. Self-publishing you know and left it at that. But I have a few more published since then. And writer’s block was horrible over the winter and as contact became less.

I started following the growly bear. For he is one, well definitely growly at times, and furred. We all find one of those in our lives, I think. Followed onto Twitch and Youtube. Found Twitter on my own and by then three months later already had my own author’s Facebook page up and running. I think I became a little infatuated with my muse. No longer to an extent as I would consider him a friend. The decade in age no longer a factor. But I am actually working with my lack of discipline to get on with my dreams. To finish writing, to get in shape.

Because of him I have actually touched, found and typed up some of Three, though that story scares me. So many of my stories scare me. Why do I write that which eventually touches and exposes my soul, scaring me from finishing the story?

But through him I found my answer to Frank. It is a picture I have save on my phone of someone in a position I find beautiful and strong. Not him. A picture found of someone newer. Though the subject felt it was a defeatist picture. There is something I find beautiful in the pose. And so I found Matthew for my Frank. How he got there is to be told. But that picture and the man behind it (yes few conversations through Instagram I have an insight into my character) I now hold dear because a picture tells a thousand words. And I intend on writing as many thousands as I can.

Watching my muse achieve things in life, I am a little intimidated. But I have hope I can keep putting one foot in front of the other. I do not know if I will ever have the guts to say “hi” if I ever saw them in person. I would like to think I could, but I am plagued by my own insecurities. If they were to say “hi” first? Well I may just faint. No, I don’t think I would, but I am so socially awkward and forget how boundaries go.

Does this meet the definition of a muse? I don’t know. Do I feel inspired to be better at what I do? Well, yes. Do I have more ideas than I can write down, see myself in a different way, want to improve on what I have? Yes to all three.

So to my muse(s),

Thank you