First and foremost, Thank you

. . . to the men and the women who stand in defense of our country.  As one of my friends put it, "land of the free because of the brave."

I'm on a tear with Living Canvas, which is now tentatively retitled Elusive Shadows.  Couldn't shake that Night Gallery influence, and actually found a better application for it.  What can I say?  I used to scare my babysitters when I was little, watching Creature Features and One Step Beyond, and Sixth Sense.  Heck, I even scared myself one night while I was babysitting watching some of those old scary shows. 

The weather has been cooperating with my burst of creativity - first by presenting a full day of rain and thunderstorms (don't worry, laptops don't always have to be plugged in) and today by stifling heat and humidity.  I still managed to go outside to soak up some of the sun, but took pen and paper with me to compose a new chapter.  Tomorrow, more gloom and doom in the form of rain promises another productive day at the keyboard.  My creative ship is sailing along with a favorable tailwind!

After wandering around in author limbo for a while (largely due to the imposition of having to work for a living), it's hard to get motivated to move ahead with the writing.  Everyday life can be exhausting.  I get bogged down with responsibilities, coupled with the business end of being an author and the competition that I'm up against, but then my time frees up, something triggers and ZOOM!  I'm off again - I can't help myself.  It is an innate part of me, as it is with the community of authors.  We threaten to quit.  We're going to give up because it's not worth the effort.  Then the lightbulb flickers on in our brains and we can't help ourselves.  There is a story that needs to be told.  This is who we are.

To paraphrase, there was a musician who said something to the effect of "If you have to ask yourself if you're a musician (insert "author" here), find something else to do.  For those of us that are called to it, there is no doubt."

And so it goes.  My muse is tapping her foot impatiently as I blog, but she'll have to wait until after dinner now.  After all, authors have to eat, too.