It’s been years now since I posted here. To be honest, I haven’t been reading or writing anything for some time. My physical health has been very poor, and I am now taking care of my elderly parents as well. My creative mind was eaten alive by life.
For a long time I didn’t want to make this post — I didn’t want to even think of making it, because it hurt so much to say that I had given up. That I feared my love of books and the written word and died, and admitting that meant admitting my heart and soul had died too.
But recently, I’ve felt the pain of missing creation. It’s ironic that the pain of creation, the energy and effort of imagination that it took to bring stories into a cold, harsh world was what initially held me back from taking part in that act. Now, it’s a perpendicular pain that is bringing me back.
I’ve been t-boned by my imagination and urge to tell stories. I have a long way to go, and for now I’m going to focus on the basics reading a lot, maybe doing some reviews, sharpening up my basics, and writing for no one but myself. My Inner Edictor has been keeping the Bloodthirsty Muses locked away, and I am on a question to set them free to take over my life once again.
So this is not a goodbye post, as I feared it might become, but a farewell for now post. An ‘I’ll be back soon,’ post. So watch this space! I have had a few of my works’ rights returned to me and I’m in the process of making them available once again. I’ll also do some brief reviews of books, both fiction and non, that I have been writing, and sharing my exercises and experiences of forcing old, stiff muscles to work once again.
If you’re still reading these posts — thank you. I hope to make your wait worthwhile.
Bloodthirsty Muses 