Report from the Writer's Place...the Doorstep Anyway

Now that E's on the upside of recovery--and looks to be staying that way, my muse is beginning to feel lighter and more carefree.

This is a good sign because that means my muse is probably only bruised by the latest health crisis with E, not broken like it was after the aneurysm rupture in 2001.

Took me a long time to repair my muse the last time. For longer than I'd like to admit, I thought I'd lost it for good.

Membership in SCBWI coaxed it out of hiding. An online Writer's Digest course in children's writing confirmed it had a voice worth listening to. The Vermont College MFA in Writing for Children program restored it.

News of E's latest health crisis left it gasping.

Now that E's home after her latest surgery (and doing great, knock on wood and thank the Powers That Be), my muse is sending me hopeful signs. Though still skittish whenever E complains of a headache, my muse appears ready return to the hard work required of all writers who hope to succeed in this business. Or at least to consider it.

So, today, at the risk of sending my muse packing, I opened the door to the Writer's Place, and peeked inside. If you're a writer, you probably know the place. It's where we sit butt in chair, and do the business of writing. (Or should if we want an audience bigger than our family, friends and crit group.)

This is good. This is progress. I stood in the doorway of the Writer's Place, thinking about submissions, networking, and opening a dialogue with several editors. And my muse didn't run.

E doesn't appear to be the only one healing.