I write when I’m inspired.How-to-Stay-Inspired-5-Steps-for-Writers

Usually, this is as a result of a meeting and its rollout consequences. Rare is it that there isn’t a catalyst for a piece.

Yet here we are.

It’s been a dry week. Desperately dry. Sheet-twistingly, lip-bitingly, knuckle-gnawingly dry. And yet, lubricant has been provided in the course of some (temporarily long-distance) correspondence, about the nature of the what, where, how and why of he and I.

Dammit, he writes a sexy game. He gave me food for thought, which set the cogs a-whirring, and then he delivered a parting shot that pulsated through me like so much sexual electricity.

It was enough, quite enough.

Words do it for me. Spoken or written, the power of the pen is almost as mighty as the power of the [insert body part here]. Anyone who cannot string a thought together in an effective manner doesn’t impact on my life at all. There’s simply no place for them, no slot. In terms of everyday, asexual/vanilla friendships, that also largely holds true, although not in the same way. For some reason, in such cases, I’m more forgiving.

Why yes, I am a literary snob. Would you like fries with that?

My life and relationships could easily be described using the Facebook idiom “it’s complicated”, but I’d rather not. The connotations are so negative. My life is complicated because it doesn’t conform to any regular dynamic. I know I have readers who will instinctively understand far easier than others — but either way it’s irrelevant. There’s a reason that the majority of what I write is non-specific with regards to who it concerns, and the nature of my connection with that specific person. This is my haven, my space, the writer’s desk of my soul.

That you care to join me here is my privilege and honour — and I am ever and eternally grateful.


15 thoughts on “Inspired

  1. I stopped today, for a few minutes, as I made my way through the nature area outside the building where I work. As if it had blocked the path, a dragonfly halted me in my tracks. My gaze held rapt to this adept flier, I watched as it supped on the very gnats which would otherwise have harassed me. This aerial combat, it’s thrust and parry worthy of the Bolshoi, suddenly struck me as both beautiful and terrifying. As nimble as the gnats might be they were being terrorized for someone’s dinner. That thought snapped me back to reality as I realized I was late for a meeting.


  2. I love this post 🙂 especially the line ‘This is my haven, my space, the writer’s desk of my soul’ you’ve just described my blogging experience, I’ve bared my soul worked through my demons and loved every minute, btw lol not whoring just ‘Inspired’ hit a chord, omg 3 mixed metaphors in one comment 😀

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I do like your haven, your space… ❤
    * * *
    @"Why yes, I am a literary snob. Would you like fries with that?" – so what?!… 😉 sure, French fries cooked in duck fat – any time! 😀
    * * *
    have an inspired and inspiring week, ED! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  4. duck-canard is the most popular bird in the south-west of France and its fat is healthy as it’s cholesterol-free… magret fumé, confit and foie-gras de canard are all beyond yummy: simply divine… with a glass of red Bordeaux wine or any regional(local) red wine, of course! bon appétit & cheers! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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