Funny how it happens...

Someone posted on Facebook "You know you're a writer when (fill in the blank)." Man, most people don't even understand how my mind works when it comes to writing. Everything and anything is a story prompt.

      On my last getaway to Charleston (such a long, long time ago!), I toured the city's historical places such as Ft. Sumter and the Old Slave Market. I read historical accounts, touched the chains of the ancestors, and two hours later while sipping whiskey, I wrote a short story called 'For Jebediah.' It's about hope, the loss of faith, family, and slavery. But it was inspired by the world I was in at the moment.

     That's how it happens for me and to me. Trust me, the muse is not always a welcome visitor. Last week I was doing fine, plugging away at my next novel 'Singing to Butterflies.' I was being diligent, handling my business and then it happened. And kept happening. An idea I'd had from a memory of my grandfather grabbed me. Then I was uppercut by how much the MegaMillions had grown to. Then Facebook showed me a memory of an old poem of mine. I haven't opened 'Singing to Butterflies' since.

     Instead, I banged out a story called 'Mr. Jasper's Porch,' another story called 'The Lottery Tickets,' and a flash fiction piece called 'The Grind.' All of this since Sunday morning at 3 A.M., when I was awakened by an urge to scribble.

     That's what separates writers from "normal" people." Whereas a dark pond may just be a dark pond, in my mind it becomes where a body has been dumped. A woman in a sundress walking down the street becomes a woman scorned and seeking revenge. A panhandler begging for change becomes a policeman in disguise. It happens to me all of the time.

      Tomorrow morning I'll write for 'Voices from the Bleachers' and maybe my article for Garden Spices magazine. Then I'll open up 'Singing to Butterflies' and resume that story. Yet at the back of my mind there's a nagging thought about a girl who wears a padded bra... Now I need to know why. Sigh.