I believe in Muses. I think I've been the willing slave to a few of them, actually....
Inspiration is like air for me: without enough of it, I know I will surely suffocate. Sometimes it comes in heavy waves, however, and during those times I feel as though my mind has become a tea kettle, the ideas turned to steam, and something is going to blow if I don't do something about it. One can only write so fast and go so long without food and rest, as unfortunate as that may be. I've found that I have to perform, both regularly and well, if I want the Muses to keep returning. I really can't complain, though: I am grateful for the Muses, even if they do sometimes get a bit demanding.
I'm grateful to be a writer. I'm grateful for inspiration. I went many years without writing, mainly due to depression and illness. I hope I never know that ever again.
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