Inspiration

What inspires you?

Not what inspired you, but what inspires you?

For me, HG Wells and Isaac Asimov inspired me to become a writer, but they don't continue to drive my passion for the art. *SNORTS* Look at that, I wrote "art". Fancy-spancy or what, huh?

I could go all Hollywood Award Show and claim that the readers inspire me, my family inspires me, or whatnot...but that would be blatant, cocky-yet-hopeful boasting. At least coming from my mouth. Though, it would be awesome to put on a way-too-expensive dress, get my make-up done. Maybe even get tipsy, blurt out during one of the speeches, and have security escort me away...

Nah, I'd trip and tear the dress we all know I didn't/couldn't pay for, I'd rub my eye and ruin my mascara, and I don't usually drink, so would be impelled to be polite. Oh well. Fun thought an all, but just a thought.

No, the readers humble me by thinking I'm worth their hard-earned cash. My family is my support system, not to mention keeps me sane enough to stay out of a straightjacket.

What inspires me is this driving need to bring to life these visions in my head somehow. So many cool things happen in it, and just like how I point out a pretty hill on our way to the beach, I want to show everyone the amazing drama playing in my neurons.

And I want to remember it happened to, because like so many other thoughts or daydreams, they don't always stay. And when they do hang around, it's never as pure and true as the initial moment.

Total example - and excerpt - here. In Echoes of Regret, the main male character is scouting a drifting vessel for signs of life. I dreamed this scene of the group walking through the hallways. When I woke up, I couldn't wait to tell people and write it down.

Echoes of Regret doesn't come out for another couple weeks, but I'm going to share that scene here today because I'm not patient enough to wait.

EXCERPT
Jace took a moment to peer down the darkened hallway to the left, and then fell into the rear position. They cleared each room, closed and initiated a room lockdown, and then moved on to the next. Brenda and Colt walked next to each other, eyeing each open door along the way. Empty. No apparent damage. No signs of a fight or struggle, or even natural signs such as fire or burn suppressant.

Everything appeared in its place, just empty. Jace shuddered and fought off the need to keep checking the darkened hallways behind them. Not only was there an empty feeling in the vessel, Jace shivered at the sense of desolation. Whatever had happened here, life had been stripped.

Colt paused at another room. A small staff lounge with food unit, cooking station, and tables with built-in seating. Two trays were still on the table, the food half-eaten. Colt stepped in with Brenda following. Matthew retraced his steps and went in. Jace followed.

"Very strange." Colt touched the food then laughed. "I almost expected it to be warm." He blushed. "Stupid, I know."

"No." Brenda said. "Me, too. It's as if everyone disappeared. Every room has works in progress, activities in the middle of process. Very unusual for sure."

"Well, the food's not going to tell us what happened. Let's move." Matthew turned back and out, then locked it down and moved on.

Jace followed the doctors and took two steps when a shadow the way they'd come caught his attention. He turned and flashed his light. Nothing. They'd closed all the doors which had been open as they checked them, so nothing could've hidden anywhere without them hearing the sliding mechanisms. His heart skipped and lodged in his throat. He didn't want to turn his back on whatever he'd thought he'd seen, even as he knew he couldn't have seen anything.

"You coming?" Matthew asked from a short distance.

"Yeah." Jace hurried to join them.

They continued their progress to the main bulk of the vessel. A soft distant melody whispered in his ear. He closed his eyes, took a breath, and continued walking. The melody continued, sounding distant yet never fading away or growing nearer. It was beautiful, light and high in tone. Feminine. Mysterious. Yet comforting. Ahead of him a few steps, both Colt and Brenda gave no indication of hearing anything. Further ahead, Matthew continued on as normal.

The melody died away long enough for a faint voice. "Come."

Tantalizing. The voice beckoning with no further words. Only the call of the melody. Jace slowed. Brenda and Colt continued, talking about their profession and didn't notice he'd broken off from them. He peered into the hallway again.

"Come to me." The whispered words wove throughout the quiet song.

* * * * *

Well, I hoped you all liked the excerpt.

So, what inspires your passions, whether it be writing or something else?