Inspiration

by Betsy Ashton

Betsy Ashton, born in Washington, DC, was raised in Southern California where she ran wild with coyotes in the hills above Malibu. She protested the war in Vietnam, burned her bra for feminism, and is a steadfast Independent. She is a writer, a thinker, the mother of three grown stepchildren, companion and friend. She mentors writers and writes and publishes fiction. Her first mystery, Mad Max Unintended Consequences, was published in February 2013. The second in the series, Uncharted Territory, A Mad Max Mystery, came out in April 2015. In her spare time, she is the president of the state-wide Virginia Writers Club. She loves riding behind her husband on his motorcycle. You’ll have to decide for yourself if and where she has a tattoo.

April 29, 2009

I never know where inspiration — or ideas for a story/poem/essay — comes from. Usually when I least expect it, an idea grabs hold of gray cells and won’t let go until I face it.

So it was the other night when I was driving home from Jim Minick’s poetry reading (see earlier post). I was deeply moved by his oral stories and poems about his aunt who has passed away. How lucky he was to know her. This got me to thinking about my dear relatives who have also passed.

Missing my aunt, who was my second mother, led to me to finish an essay called The Gift. I polished it and submitted it to a writing contest. That wasn’t enough to calm the twitchy gray cells, however.

Now, I don’t believe in automatic writing, but I do believe in channeling people’s feelings and thoughts. I couldn’t get my dear mother out of my mind. I began writing what I thought would be another essay. Right now, it looks more like free verse. Funny, neither my mother nor I like poetry all that much. I don’t know why the feelings came out in poetic form. Maybe because I wanted to keep the words sparse. Tell the story with the least amount of words possible. Maybe I was too tired and lazy to form complete sentences for an essay. Maybe it came out the only way I could handle it.

At any rate, I can thank Jim Minick for stirring up emotions that have, thus far, manifested themselves in a poem.

Wonder where my next inspiration will come from.

Stay Up to Date

You May Also Like…

Eating with a Stranger

Eating with a Stranger

Have you ever eaten with a stranger? Not just someone you don't know well, but someone you've never seen before? If...

0 Comments