Tag Archive | inspiration

Writers – You NEED this book! Fall in Love With Writing.

Fall in  Love With WritingIf you’re looking for the perfect, last-minute gift for the writer in your life, (or for yourself)  this is it. I am currently devouring each word. Usually, I finish a book before recommending it, but I knew just a few pages in that anyone who has ever sat down and put pen to page was going to fall in love with it as quickly as I did.

Juni Desireé has compiled a phenomenal collection of quotes and anecdotes from writers of all ages from around the world about one of my favorite things to both read and write about ~ writing. They share from the heart their love of writing; why they write, what the written word means to them – they encourage and uplift and inspire. I am honored to be among these many voices, I must admit to feeling almost unworthy of sharing the page with them.

Already, I feel empowered and inspired to write, write, write.

I have so much more to say about this beautiful book, but for now I must resume my reading. I simply couldn’t wait to share.

Whether you’re an established writer or just thinking about giving writing a go, this book will inspire you to write for the love of writing. With over 200 people from around the world sharing their love of the writing, Fall in Love with Writing will encourage you that anyone can write. You don’t need eloquent words or literary prose; all you need are your own words on the page to share your stories. Packed full of writing advice, prompts, and examples of people’s raw and honest writing, this book will give you a taste of the writing world and lots of ideas to get you started and keep on going. May you fall in love with writing.”

Fall in Love with Writing by Juni Desireé 

Click the link to order your Kindle copy right now!

The origin & etymology of Qwietpleez



I’ve been asked several times why my blog is called The Qwiet Muse, and have also recently been informed by a few folks that I spelled quiet wrong, (just in case spell check didn’t catch it). So sweet. To put those helpful minds at ease, I spelled it that way on purpose. Spell check has been my saving grace on many occasions, however, this one I fought it on.

Words, as you know – must know, or should know, often have more than one meaning; you may think of the word muse and envision some mystical, magical creature of beauty floating overhead, gently guiding along inspiration. But believe me, if some ghostly apparition ever stops by for a brainstorming session, I’m outta there. I’m running and writing about it later (and elsewhere).

Muse can also be defined as an instance or period of reflection, a source of inspiration . . . My particular muse comes from everything around me; my faith, my family, my friends. My muse exists in all the wonders of God’s creation and in my unique human experience.

The Qwiet Muse is a reflection of me. It’s derived from my original screen-name, qwietpleez, and muse for my inspiration; the reasons I write.

Onto to origin and etymology of, ‘qwiet‘ –

qwi-et [kwahy-it] adjective. Basic definition – the same as quiet. It’s the same word, with the obvious distinction of containing a W in place of the U.

  • making no noise or sound, especially no disturbing sound: qwiet children.
  • free, or comparatively free, from noise: a qwiet house.
  • silent: Be qwiet!
  • restrained in speech, manner, etc.; saying little: a qwiet person.
  • free from disturbance or tumult; tranquil; peaceful: a qwiet life.

verb form 
* to make qwiet: Qwiet down in there, or else!
* to make tranquil or peaceful; pacify: to qwiet a crying baby.
* to calm mentally, as a person: There, there, be qwiet now.
* to silence: Qwiet!

Origin: 1997; English(ish). Derived from (adj.) Middle English quiet < Latin quiētus, past participle of quiēscere ; (v.) Middle English quieten, partly derivative of the adj., partly < Late Latin quiētāre, derivative of quiētus.

*credit and apologies to dictionary.com

Historical Account:

In the summer of 1997 a young mother (me) was creating her first AOL.com email account. Her beginning attempts all failed, the names she chose were unavailable. She wanted something witty, something fun, and memorable. After several hours and many unsuccessful attempts, her frustrations began to rise, as did the playful rambunctiousness of her children.

Her attempts at quieting them were equally unsuccessful. Finding it increasingly hard to think, she found herself repeatedly requesting silence. Calm down, lower your voices, hush, go to the other room, knock it off, zip it, chill out, and other such requests went ignored.

Her final, shouted request, not only stilled the room of sound (for a moment), but became her victory at the keyboard as well.


She was filled with trepidation, dreading another ‘unavailable’ message but she pressed on, one key after the other. Q w i e t p l e e z. This was it. It was perfect. Her finger hovered over the enter key, she closed her eyes and pushed it. When she opened them, the message said ‘success’!

So there you have it . . . oh, by the way. I realize please is spelled wrong, I like it that way.

Seeking, searching – inspiration


I play hide and seek

with inspiration

pursuing fickle muse

through darkened labyrinth

in dauntless expectation

She scatters thoughts

like falling leaves

and frenzied shooting stars

besprinkling each path I’m on

with quickly fading vestiges

of partial revelations

I perceive only from afar

They disappear

as I draw near

neath my feet

lay naught but dirt

where once there was

a star

Searching, seeking

lost, lamenting

My feckless quest

is near its end

the day is fading

the night is calling

Perhaps tomorrow

she will be my friend

Crystal R. Cook

Synaptic Connection Lost – Send Help

Testing, testing, 1–2–3. Once upon a time, in a land far away . . . the swift brown fox jumped over the lazy dog . . .

Pardon me, just trying to be certain I’ve not forgotten how to type. It seems the keys are in working order, my fingers easily find each one, so typing is not the issue, it appears I still remember how to form words in a manner resembling sentences.

I guess I can check those excuses off my * why on earth am I not writing? * list.

There must be an internal malfunction disrupting the usual flow of words I rarely have to fight with such vigor to release.

My typically energetic neurons have been slacking off in the synaptic connection department, maybe the receptors are busted. The problem must lie somewhere within those billions of nerve cells running my information processing center. My synaptic connections are simply not synapsing and connecting.

Perhaps my neurons need input. I have hundreds of books from which to choose, all with the potential to jump-start my ridiculously stubborn mind. If I could just syphon all the excess and unneeded and unwanted thought from it, I’m certain I would regain coherent and functional use of the blasted thing.

The closest I’ve come to actual writing these past weeks was changing the words to Green Eggs and Ham to reflect my disdain for people. Sam-I-Am meets his demise at the end. A dear friend suggested I seek pharmaceutical intervention after reading it. I assured her I was properly medicated, but she seemed doubtful.

So, woe is me.

I suppose I will peruse my overflowing shelves for a good read, suggestions are welcome.


I’ve narrowed my choices down to four, but I cannot come to a final decision.

The Bell Jar —Sylvia Plath











The Professor and the Madman — Simon Winchester











Miss Peregrine’s Home For Peculiar Children — Ransom Riggs











The Fourth Hand — John Irving











Please feel free to provide your thoughts as mine are wholly unreliable at this time.



Inspiration . . . the often elusive treasure every wandering muse searches for. Inspiration is the heart and soul of a writer’s world. Inspiration breathes life into the written word. Without it, a writer could not weave a work of words into a beautiful tapestry for a reader to behold.

Inspiration generally finds me when I am not seeking it. It may rise from the ashes of heartache or drift in on the wings of a gentle spring zephyr. I have been inspired by the innocence of a sleeping babe, by the perfect sound of a child’s laughter and by sadness seen in the eyes of a grieving widow.

Often, when I am looking for inspiration, it seems there is none to be found until it sneaks in and surprises me in a quiet moment. Inspiration likes to wake me in the dark of night and steal my slumber, my sleepy eyes blur the words I pen to the page by the light of a midnight moon. I know too well if I wait until the morn, the moment will have passed and what could have been written will never be wrote.

Many find inspiration in the world around them, some find it within themselves. I have been inspired by questions asked and by answers given. I have found inspiration in the breathtaking beauty of a butterfly’s wing and in the clouded eyes of an old man on the corner, sitting in silence as people pass him by.

An American flag tattered yet proud, flowing freely and strong. The image of a soldier kneeling in faithful prayer, not knowing what tomorrow will bring, and watching trees gently sway as they dance with the wind. The sound of raindrops on a rooftop or the softness of skin, aged gracefully with time. The worn binding and soft pages of a treasured, old book. These are but a few of the many things which have inspired me.

I’ve been inspired by once forgotten memories that somehow found their way back to me. There are times when pain is my inspiration, instead of letting it fester, I let whatever words come bring healing. Unexpected inspiration can be born of anger and angst, I’ve found healing in these moments as well.

I have learned inspiration comes when it will. I have also learned to look and listen and feel everything within me and around me, so when it comes round it will not easily pass me by.

For some time now, I’ve not heeded the call to write when it beckoned and begged me to spill new words upon a page. I’ve once again opened my eyes and my ears and my heart to the inspirations that have long been crying out in effort to be noticed.

This blog, this new chapter is strange and exciting. Until now I’ve kept so much of what I have poured onto the page for myself. I’ve been my own worst critic. I’ve let self-doubt take my hand and lead me astray. I’ve limited myself to paragraphs and chapters here and there, tiny samplings of what I hold inside. I’ve published randomly around the web, articles that merely left me aching to write more, stifled by word counts and subject matter.

Perhaps, in part, this was the reason I stopped clicking away at the keys and jotting down thoughts and dreams. The reasons why are meaningless now, I’ve taken this leap of faith and as sure as God gives me the words I share, He will continue to provide inspiration . . .

Crystal R. Cook