Writer’s Block is not something I’ve ever been familiar with. When other writers talked about it I felt rather ashamed I’d not experienced it. My Muse is rarely silent. In fact there are times I cannot shut her up. She is a very vocal mini-me. She’s accomplished at all the things I’m not – sings in tune, imitates a plethora of accents, understands a wide range of foreign languages and customs, fits in anywhere, anytime. What a talent she is. What I find most difficult - is voicing my thoughts in the company of strangers. I’m a silent social stutterer, if you will. Instead, I listen. I watch. I record. Yes. I’m one of those writers. The result is that for many years my Muse has provided a range of characters rabbiting away, demanding I scribble down their every word. I’m rarely alone. A veritable inner ear city of Babel. This has meant that on a day to day basis, I rise early and write, without fail, for a minimum of 2 hours. This has never been a chore. Since I left full-time teach
I write therefore I am