It’s the day after Easter, but before you go thinking I am comparing my career or any part of my life to that of Jesus (for instance, I am way older than he ever got), I just wanted to drop a quick note here about Easter and new starts: a resurrection of my passion, if you will.
I haven’t been silent about what is going on in my life, although I have not shared details. And I won’t, unless you are in a very special inner circle of friends. But if you have been following along (if you haven’t, here is a link to about as much as I am going to say on the subject), you know I am going through a divorce from my wife of sixteen years, and at the same time will be doing some extensive travel this summer (and more may be in the works).
During the upheaval, really since mid-December, my muse has been quite fickle. She does not like stress, change, and most of all conflict. And my life has been filled with those things, including some unnecessary drama, something that drives her into hiding.
Well, in a new apartment, new office, fighting two internet providers to get things up and running again, my muse woke back up. I needed to fix some things in my current WIP, Slaughtered, I needed to get some research done, and I have several projects waiting, including the completion of The Good Shepherd, sequel to Stray Ally. Working on any or all of these has been challenging at best.
Then came Wednesday. Hump day. Not Good Friday or Resurrection Sunday. My new roommate, also my cousin, experienced her first “Troy Trance.” These occur frequently when I am so involved in my work, wheat I am writing or doing, that I become oblivious to what is going on around me. She came in, stood in the doorway of my room, watched me type, went to her room. She put her things away, and then came back. Stood and watched me some more. She probably could have robbed the place. Then she walked up behind me and said something.
I don’t know what she said, but she scared the shit out of me. My muse is back. She has me trapped at the keyboard, and words are flowing fast and furious. It’s a resurrection. Okay, maybe not an Easter miracle. It has been more than three days after all. But in the last few weeks, a huge weight has been lifted from me. Maybe my muse was stuck under the burden of it, and now she is free.
And I am ready. My passion is risen. It is risen indeed.