You know your writer’s soul cannot resist….

Stormy winds howl in the sky like soul-tortured creatures of the night. Leafless branches claw at the window yet you know in your bones the undead are dying to get in. As the fire rages in the hearth, its flames lick with forked tongues, your heartbeat counts down the minutes until you come face-to-face with your deepest fears.

Alone, a shiver runs up your spine and the corner of your lip curves.

You delight in the cold, tingly feeling moving from the tips of your toes to the top of your head where wisps of ideas circle around in your brain. Plots form – the kinds you don’t share with wee loved ones for fear of scaring them to death.

Then again, you just might for they long to be unleashed.

Persistent, your ideas work their way out of the gray matter nestled in your skull, enveloping you in their thick, midnight-scented substance. Light turns to Dark. You become one with it. As you wend your way, in forbidden abandon, every dreadful and delicious sensation you’ve ever experienced – from love to hate and everything in between – melds into one rich emotion.

It fuels your creativity. It inspires your Muse.

The substance made up of thoughts and plots and emotions takes on a life of its own. You rejoice as you feel it course through your veins and ooze from your fingertips. Wearing a crooked grin, you pick up your quill.

No matter how hard you try your writer’s soul cannot resist bleeding ink…

Got something dark dying to leap out onto a page? Write it, submit it, we want to read it!

Submissions open.

Ever Yours,

The InkBabes

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6 Comments

  1. Yup, sometimes when you release the monster, that’s what it feels like.

    Reply
  2. Very poetic! Love it!

    Reply
  3. I like it, although now I can only write with the lights on, New Age music on in the background, and sucking my pacifier for comfort…

    Reply

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