After a long, long absence from you, my friends, I am returning to make my thoughts heard. I completed an edit of Undeliverable, sent out queries, started and finished the first draft of The Mark of the Storyteller, and am just about to return to editing Undeliverable per some quite excellent feedback from an agent (with an R&R no less!). And I find myself desirous of re-initializing my online presence.

To that end, let me share with you a story, a story that the universe chucked at my head yesterday, screaming for attention. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about, but in case you don’t, here’s how to tell when a muse has a story for you…

I was walking back from work to the train station when I spotted an abandoned scrap of cardboard. There were frequent panhandlers at that traffic light, so I thought nothing of it until I got close enough to read it. In carefully lettered sharpie, it read, “PLEASE HELP ESCAPE.” That was it, one line along the top of the board, as though it’s author had been leaving room for more of a message, but never got around to it. I thought perhaps their escape had been granted. Or perhaps their escape had been thwarted. What a delicious prop, thank you universe.

And then I reached the train station. The first thing I noticed was the fact that the homeless man who had been living in a sheltered corner of the steps to the parking garages was gone. And when I got into the station, it was crawling with transportation police. They were very carefully watching for someone, a man posted at every stairwell and entrance. And this gave me hope that the older man had managed his escape, and I wondered how I might follow suit…