I started taking music lessons in the second grade. By the time I was in high school, there were three instruments I knew how to play: flute, clarinet, and the oboe. When mixed with modern and jazz dance lessons, I’d say music was my heart’s beat. Although, I think Mom had another motive. . . keep me busy and way too tired, so I wouldn’t gain membership into our town’s teenage pregnancy club. Fortunate for me, Mom’s plan worked, and I exchanged one life-altering decision for another—music grew inside of me instead of a baby. Continue reading
Musical Pens
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My days are full.
Many things give me story ideas. The obvious is PEOPLE WATCHING.
As the year closes I can’t name all the people I’ve connected with online. They’ve come from parts of the world I would like one day to visit. Friendship formed is a grand thing. Writers are a breed of people who walk through life with great imaginations. I love reading their bios and am in awe of the accomplishments. All I can say is WOW! Writing is a powerful medium. 
It’s hard for me to think when my mind is dry… better known as WRITER’S BLOCK. Writing a novel; drenching my soul to write “THE END” is like carrying a ton of bricks on my back and walking barefoot through the desert. It’s a solo journey moving my imagination inch by inch. Hands click away on the computer slower and slower and less enthusiastic. I’d like to think there are many writers like me, walking through the desert, in need of their brain to be refreshed. 
Fiction Writing emerges as my personal choice for many reasons. The most important one points to pure enjoyment.