I’ve had a lot of visitors and people I meet in my internet travels ask, “Why do you call it ‘Bloodthirsty Muses’? Isn’t that kind of gross?”
Well… yeah, okay. Originally, I took Bloodthirsty Muses initially for two reasons:
1.) If you spend more than 30 seconds with me, you may notice my vampire fetish.
From the Victorian era to Anne Rice to the stacks and stacks and STACKS of vampires from the era of the Buffy and… *shudder* Twilight phenomenon, if it has fangs on it, I’ll watch it/read it. Even if it sparkles and I deeply regret it later.
2. Muses. As a writer, the muses are my coaches, my inspiration, the thing that drives me to get that story down and tell it the way it’s gone in my mind’s eye. Most of my muses are vampires, but they aren’t the only ones who are ‘bloodthirsty’. Whatever drives you to write: need, ambition, pictures of hot, naked guys (or girls), music, whatever does it for you, the word drive is the operative term. You write because those voices talk to you, all the time. Your need won’t let you go. The muses expect blood. Papa Hemingway said, “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter, and bleed.”
Of course, we use a computer now, but you get the gist. To write the story of your heart, of your imagination, you have to spill your entire self into it. If you fake it, readers will be able to tell, and it will just fall flat. Make your sacrifices to the Muses, satisfy their bloodlust, and all will be well.
So, Bloodthirsty Muses has become my home on the internet, where I share my bookish life: reading them and writing them. A
welcoming place for vampires and other things that go bump in the night, and where I always invite my sister and fellow authors and book bloggers in to have a seat, imbibe in their favorite substance, and chat a while.
But watch out, the muses here BITE.