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This post is by Doris McCraw

What makes your muse sit up and take notice? When the fickle lady decides she wants to go somewhere other than by your side, how do you get her back? Believe it our not, I go read. Yes, you heard or should I say read correctly, I read. From there it is all easy sailing, with a major dose of work. You thought I was going to say it was easy. You still have to do the work, I write as I smile.

From those readings I can find so much to make me wonder, WHAT HAPPENED? Let me give you some examples that I found fascinating. Maybe you will too.

1. From the poem Emigravit by Helen (Hunt) Jackson

With sails full set, the ship her anchor weighs.
Strange names shine out beneath her figure head.
What glad farewells with eager eyes are said!
What cheer for him who goes, and him who stays!

As someone who loves tall ships I wonder who went, who stayed and how were their lives changed. What about you? How do you see the people involved?

2. A man was recently hanged for taking vengeance on one who had practically disputed his property in a girl.

I just found this statement so odd and somewhat disturbing. Still working on this one.

3. The new road though the Ute Pass is completed, and is now alive with traffic.

Imagine using this as your first line. What kind of traffic? When was this opened? This simple statement can take you anywhere.

Summit of Ute Pass, by Chamberlain, W. G. (William Gunnison) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

4. Another mystery, discovered the remains of a man near the head of the gulch. They were found under a pile of rocks. Two bullet holes were found in the skull. They were about forty feet from where the remains of another man was found six weeks ago.

Although this incident took place in 1872, the crime itself is timeless. Who are the victims? Were they related? Is it the work of a serial killer or in the case of the Old West, outlaws?

5. And finally my last and favorite are the last lines to the poem “Last Words” by Helen (Hunt) Jackson

And when, remembering me, you come some day

And stand there, speak no praise, but only say,

“How she loved us! T’was that which made her dear!”

Those are the words that I shall joy to hear.

Helen Hunt Jackson portrait (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I hope someday to use these words as the ending to a story. I know they remind me of my mother and her love of her family, her friends and those whose lives she touched.

Whatever you do to bring the muse into your life and writing, know she wants to help you tell the story of What Happened, so listen. Hear the call? She is whispering in your ear. Now sit down and write, I say with a smile.

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