Today I’m being graciously hosted at Marsha’s Spot with another guest post/giveaway where I discuss what a skinny man with a funky beard and glued together glasses had to do with Mae’s birth.
What I neglected to mention in my guest post is the man’s poor hygiene. His teeth were coated in a waxy film with a yellow tinge and he smelled of stale cigarettes and sweat.
Since we were all at a professional writer’s conference I can only assume that was his dressing up. He was the person that everyone avoids eye contact with on the public bus. So why did I get caught up in his silly statement enough to get upset to the point of red faced yelling?
I can only assume because he struck a nerve in me. He claimed I wouldn’t have the imagination to write a fictional tale and that irked me to the core. In retrospect I think it affected me so deeply because I feared he was right. Perhaps inside I was craving creation.
Either way, in my mind I will always be simultaneously annoyed and grateful to the anonymous muse that inspired me to divert my path. Angels don’t always visit wearing flowing silk gowns of white. Sometimes they show up as nicotine soaked nerds with bad teeth.