Jill Baguchinsky's Blog, page 8

Take a Moment, Thank a Muse

I should really be blogging less and revising the new project more, but I can't let today go by without getting a little mushy about muses. It is, after all, Muse Appreciation Day, an international event founded by yours truly and celebrated by at least three other people in the world. Major stuff.

The original Muses, of course, were the goddesses in Greek mythology who inspired artistic creativity. However, I use the term in a broader sense.

Wherever your creative inspiration comes from, take a moment to acknowledge it today. Do your characters babble incessantly in your head, keeping you up at night until you put down their stories on paper?

Or maybe you define the idea of a muse on a more abstract level. If approached in certain ways, writing and other forms of creative expression can take on a spiritual aspect. When a story simply must be written, you'll feel it all the way through to your soul. Where do those ideas, those sparks come from?

However you define the idea of a muse, if you have one, thank it today. Give it a big metaphorical hug. Or an actual hug, if you prefer. Let it know how much you love it.

(And to my own muse: Happy 10th Muse-iversary, you big Irish brute. You're the best muse a writer-girl could ask for. Thank you for your patience; someday I'll show your story to the world.)

The Road to Publication: Part Three

[This is part 3 of a summary of Spookygirl's journey toward publication. Use the Progress tag to access all related entries.] 
The Seattle trip was fantastic – Thom Kephart of Amazon could not have done a better job keeping everything organized. My fellow finalists and I (along with our guests, and representatives from Amazon, CreateSpace, and Penguin) were treated to a fantastic dinner at the Purple Café and Wine Bar. And my mother and I – both total newbies to the city – had plenty of time for sightseeing and doing the whole tourist thing.
(Yes, we saw the Space Needle. No, we did not go up to the top.)
But you didn't come to this blog for touristy stuff, right?
To be honest, my memory of the awards breakfast is somewhat of a blur. We were shuttled over to Amazon's headquarters, where we mingled over breakfast for a little while. Well, we were supposed to mingle over breakfast. I was way too nervous even for coffee. I'm pretty sure all six of us were dying to hear the news no matter what it was.
Photo courtesy of Thom KephartThe awards ceremony started with opening remarks from Thom. Then, one by one, each finalist was invited up to give a short speech and read an excerpt.
(Memo to future finalists: Feel free to be creative with the excerpt you read. Choose whatever bit of your manuscript you feel like sharing. I thought sticking with the beginning of my story would be safest, but once I realized most of the other finalists hadn't done that, I wished I'd chosen differently. I would've loved to read a little of Violet's faux séance, or her interaction with the jocks and Dead Dirk.)
Then it was time for the winners to be announced. I seriously barely remember any of it; I heard my name, and I was given my award, and I shook hands with people, and I couldn't stop smiling, and I tried my best not to pass out. Photos were taken. My contract was explained to me. I texted people and announced the news on Facebook.
I didn't stop shaking for hours. I'm shaking again now, just from remembering.
I keep a mental list of my five best days ever. June 13, 2011 is at the top of the list now – better than sneaking onto the seaQuest set back in 1994, better than scaring Hugh Jackman with a My Little Pony. Best. Day. Ever.
Up next: So what happens after the contest?

Local Legends: The Haunted Pillar

I'm visiting one of my bestest friends, Rhonda, in Augusta, Georgia. Rhonda and I are fans of all things spooky, so we sought out the Haunted Pillar, a piece of Augusta mythology.

The pillar's legend depends on who's telling it. The link above has a few interpretations; the version I hear usually combines those into the tale of a progressive preacher who cursed the pillar of a slave market to punish those involved in the selling of slaves. Anyone who touches the pillar is supposed to be struck dead.


We didn't just touch it. We hugged it. We're awesome like that. That was over a week ago, and we're both still alive, so I'm thinking we might have escaped the curse. Since this isn't even really the original pillar, that makes sense. Then again, none of the legends include a time limit, so I guess it eventually comes true for everyone . . .