Genesis: the anti-literary journal

I have always marched to the sound of my own muse. I write what she whispers into my ear. 

I have enjoyed writing my whole life, I have ejoyed creating. New lives, new worlds. After half a century, I stepped outside my little world, and the worlds of my creation, considered getting published. When I researched literary journals, invariably they would say ‘subscribe and read our content to see if you are a good fit.’

See, now, that doesn’t work for me, it does not work for my muse. She has never been that interested in ‘seeing if she is a good fit’. She is a bit whimsical. She flutters around the world, and sees stories everywhere. But they are her stories. She whispers them, I try and capture them in words. I don’t bound them or shape them to fit in. 

The creation is magic, and it needs to be free.

Putting her inside a cage smothers her, and she cannot whisper the magic.