Truth is, I might just be a lazy sow, but I just don't have the motivation to write much lately.
Whatever higher power you believe in is immaterial, even if yours of is one of coincidence and indifference. I have often been lost and dazed about what to do, or wondered if I am on the right track. When this happens I have asked the Universe (insert your preferred god here) for some sort of sign, and have been rarely disappointed.
For instance, my first published novel Winter's Trial started as something written only for myself. Wanting to be a writer, I would think about how great it would be if I actually got it published but with something only resembling inactive hope. Werewolves? Yawn. Gay novels? Generally unimpressed. So, why the hell was I writing about them both? True, I loved Austin and Cristiano, Taylor, Quinton, Pearl, and the whole cast. Writing was like spending time with friends, but I started to doubt if anyone would want to spend time with them, too. I kept wondering if I should even bother or move on to something else. Maybe even abandon the idea of professional/novel writing altogether.
Walking home one day thinking about this question, I noticed something on the ground. It was an abandoned green name tag sticker. On it were the words, "Hello, my name is: Austin". I literally stopped in my tracks. I got the chills.
Hello, sign! How are you? Next time please don't his me so hard, thanks!
I was going to take a picture of it with my phone and decided not to at the last moment. Some things should remain imprinted in the mind. I think memory is sometimes better than proof.
I wasn't above taking the sticker, though. I tried to nudge it, pick it up, whatever. It was very much stuck to the sidewalk. I decided it was best left alone. My spirits raised, I went home and wrote and wrote and wrote.
The next day I was determined to take a picture of it. The sticker was gone.
There were none of the remnants of sticker, nothing indicating it had been reluctantly removed from the sidewalk. Sure, it wasn't super glued, and it shouldn't have been difficult to get it off, but why? Had this mysterious Austin come back to claim his property? Was someone offended by the name and removed the sticker? Was it less stuck than I thought and ended up on the bottom of someone's shoe?
I will never know. And I think that's all for the best. It was there when I needed it, and gone before it could become common and therefore have all its imagined magick robbed from it.
Coincidence? Probably. Unremarkable on any other day? Certainly. Really means nothing? Yeah. Am I making a huge deal out of nothing? Of course.
But what if?
That was the first in a series of such signs, but that was the first and the one that kept me going. Now, when I allow life to intrude to the point of lunacy, I think I may ask for another sign. I am plagued by doubts. Do I have any right to ask for more than one? Should I find that strength within myself? We all know the answers to that. But even if it means nothing more than widening my perception to see something to point me in the direction I know deep inside I should be going, isn't that enough? Even if I attach mystical meaning to some unrelated, totally mundane coincidence, if it sets me on the right path, then who cares what set me on it, right?
Either way, that's enough for one night. Maybe I will discuss some of the other signs which led me to produce what I did. Winter's Trial, incidentally, can be bought on Amazon, Torquere's site, or any number of other book sellers.
Maybe the sticker was right.