When Greg was in Houston, we had an enjoyable discussion of New Orleans street names and Southern place names in general. We Southerners tend to find it charming to pronounce things the way we damn well please (the Alabama towns of Lafayette and Arab come to mind, as does Versailles in Kentucky), and New Orleans offers up a wealth of examples.
I hadn’t realized that all nine Greek Muses (Calliope, Clio, Erato, Euterpe, Melpomene, Polymnia, Terpsichore, Thalia, and Urania) have New Orleans streets named for them, and considering some of the street pronunciations, the Muses themselves might not realize it.
Since that conversation, the Muses have been much on my mind (which means they will surely find their way into my fiction). I suppose over time, many of us have forgotten the Muses and which art or science they inspire, instead developing a more personal concept of a muse.
Who or what inspires you?
This is going to sound tremendously suck-up-ish… but I tell you – I do mean it, truly.
You’ve inspired me.
🙂
When I first opened your books, ahead of reading them – I just found myself looking at them, holding them for DAYS. I kept thinking “Hey. I know her!!” and I can’t tell you what holding your books did to me – as a writer.
See… being published is a dream of mine that, oftentimes, feels very far off. When I see books that have been published – they are always written by an author – a being of mythic proportions that I’ve never felt quite able to reach, professionally – and, I’d had the feeling that I never would quite reach that goal because I’d not met a published author (and I have met many!) that had continued to remain human, before… so – in my imaginings they were always far and away from my dreams and my visualizations of one day joining the ranks of having an entire book published, myself.
One of the things that I *really* like and admire about you, Becky – and I’ve mentioned this before – is that (even with your exceptional talent as a writer) you have remained very human. You are approachable. You share your great, many talents with those of us here reading your LJ. Your wit, your humor, your talent, your life, your passions, your fun projects, your friends, your photographs – we see your world visions through your eyes, and read about your daily life happenings – and we imagine that we are there… sharing in your joys – and sometimes in your worries and in your pain. Through our own painful moments – You have had the ability to bring comfort to many – through your words or deeds… and in consideration of all of that – you became the first published author that I’ve truly looked up to because a) You are very talented and b) You’ve remained approachable as a fellow human being and c) I am fortunate in that I actually know you, at least a little bit.
🙂
Holding your books – seeing your books – reminds me that when hard work and dedication is applied… being published is possible. Which is why your books are on my writing desk. Their spines lovingly greet me each morning and evening during my writing times… and, sometimes, I could swear that they whisper to me “You can do it, too…”
So, yeah.
You and your talking books…
You – and they – inspire me, daily.
🙂
I’m overwhelmed. You made me cry. In a good way. Thank you.
You CAN do it. I believe in you.
Anything.
Greg’s picture today of him standing all proud of his beads in that awesome blue shirt against the blue wall? Ding! Entry into the idea book.
The arthritic jab I got today from my nearly destroyed knuckle when going to stir my tea? Ding! Entry into the idea book.
My husband’s sore throat. I jokingly put my hand on his throat, said ‘Demons, begone!’ and he said, ‘No! Don’t! The demons can stay. I want the germs out.’ Ding! Entry into the idea book.
Sometimes I think I’ll end up with nothing but idea notes. 😛
In a more specific sense, however, the husband is likely my #1 source of inspiration. The fabulous group of authors (y’self included) I’ve met would be #2.
I so understand that willingness to soak it all up. It amazes me how many seemingly inconsequential conversations and experiences of my lifetime–and other people’s lifetimes–have nudged their way into what I write. From the worst to the best moments, it’s all material.
Thank you for saying I’m among those who inspire you.
I think the Muses do know, despite the way we mangle their names. After all, I’ve done all of my writing in the Neighborhood of the Nine Muses. (And don’t even try to steal that for a title; I’ve already got dibs on it.)