According to Wikipedia, “The Muses in Greek mythology, poetry, and literature are the goddesses or spirits who inspire the creation of literature and the arts. They were considered the source of the knowledge … that was contained in poetic lyrics and myths.”

Or, as puts it, a muse is “a goddess that inspires a creative artist.”

Muses, according to myth and legend, are mystical beings. They’re the soft voices in our heads we typically call inspiration. When they whisper, we dream.

My muse’s name is Violet (or Vye for short—rhymes with ‘die’). She’s not one of the classical muses, not one of the nine daughters of Zeus, at least not as far as she’s told me. She’s something of a quiet spirit unless you get to know her—which I have, and then you discover the girl can talk.

Sometimes she doesn’t even seem to breathe, she prattles on so quickly. Other times she’ll go days (or weeks) without uttering a single word.

I would call her flighty, but that’s not really fair. She is what she is.

Muses can’t always be inspiring. Sometimes artists just have to work for their craft. But as partners go, she more than pulls her share. When I’m on, I mean really on, she’s right there with me, helping me navigate the pell-mell landscape of my own fiction as though she’s lived there all her life.

You may well wonder about this Violet stuff. Is she real? Are you just pulling my leg? You don’t actually believe in goddesses, do you?

In answer to those questions, I’ll simply say this: I write fiction—and more specifically fantasy fiction—not because I want to believe in a world in which magic really happens, but because I do believe.

And what a loss if magic is real and goddesses aren’t.

Oh, and Violet insists that I say hi on her behalf. She’s pleased to meet you all.