Realms of the Raven - Erotic Romance Author Maura Anderson

Today was somewhat introspective for some reason. No real idea why but I often seem to be at the mercy of the voices in my head.

I still find myself with the thought that I don’t feel like a “real” writer. Not that I can define what exactly a “real” writer feels like. I have no idea if there is some magical threshold that you cross and then you are suddenly a “real” writer. At the moment it’s a bad case of imposter syndrome.

A few weeks ago I suddenly realized that I really had a book coming out. It’s in the hands of the editors. It’s already on Amazon. And I have managed to accomplish that near mythical achievement - My first sale is the very first book I proposed and completed. But I haven’t really celebrated that - maybe because it’s not fiction? I’m not 100% sure.

But now I’m turning my mind back to fiction. Today I read a line from a song by Sharon Knight that really struck me.

“I have dipped my toes in the madness of muses.”

In a way this is how I feel sometimes. There are so many ideas out there, constantly tickling at my mind. A constant influx of ideas and concepts, characters and worlds. Everything I am exposed to is fodder for the muses. In it’s way, I think it is a kind of madness.

So today I was playing a new CD I’d bought - which I don’t like as well as the first album by Sharon Knight - and had one of those moments where a sentence or line I read just strikes me as particularly thought-provoking.

“I have dipped my toes in the madness of muses.”

I read this in the album notes and it really struck me as true. I seem to have finally accepted that I am a writer. I have no idea why it took me so long to do so - maybe because my sale is a non-fiction book instead of fiction?

Not only am I a writer but I have accomplished the near mythical - I sold the very first book I proposed and completed. And in a market I was told was dead.

But now I’m more driven to complete and sell a fiction book - and I wonder if then I will feel more like a “real” writer? Or maybe not. Is there a threshold where, once you cross it, you become a “real” writer?

Now that I’ve started writing fiction, I do feel like I’ve dipped my toes in the madness of muses. I have more ideas all the time. I see potential in all the things I hear or see. Perhaps I have become a part of the madness of muses.