Inspiration is a strange, complex emotion… dare I use the word emotion? It is different for everyone. For me, that door opened once I moved to Europe: London, Munich, Augsburg… travel was the magical key. I inserted and turned. It lured me from my country and culture yet somehow freed me. No expectation, no labels other than the American. I developed into a sponge soaking up the exposure to unfamiliar disciplines: literature, music, architecture, and fashion. But the writing bug didn’t bite until I returned to the United States. It seemed as if to scribble fictitious tales kept my traveling experiences alive. A vortex of data always churning in my mind.
A horse riding adventure on the beach in Barbados inspired a short story. An Ethiopian neighbor living in Munich told anecdotes of a privileged life until, as a student, she was forced to flee the ruling military regime of the day. Her status reduced to refugee… another narrative is birthing.
But it was the sixteen-year-old Muse, a runaway American slave who presented herself and absorbed all of my attention. Who was she? What did she want? Where was she going? But most of all, how would she survive? Peltier, the bounty hunter. What drove him? What fears and mental disorders possessed him? Why does he hate so? And the city of Paris circa 1855, a time of renovation, re-creation, and evolving into the modern city we recognized today.
The Awakening of La Muse, historical fiction, is my debut novel. What a ride! I hope you enjoy the journey.