Why Medusa's Muse?

Why Medusa's Muse? My Muse asks me that question. I think she's a little offended by the implication, like I'm not appreciative of her presence, or maybe I think she's evil. I remind her that she does have snakes in her hair, to which she replies, "Everyone needs a pet. They don't mean anything." Then she wraps them securely on top of her head with an emerald pin, impaling one through the throat.

I'll try to explain. Medusa's Muse is that problem that immobilizes you. Your greatest fear, your most painful defeat, crashing into your life and making you fall. You don't know how you're going to deal with it, but somehow, despite the grief or rage, you find a way. And not only do you handle it, but you transform it. The event or person which almost destroyed you becomes the defining moment in your life and tells you who you are. You looked Medusa square in the eye and she blinked. You weren't turned to stone, not completely. Maybe parts of you were immobilized for a brief time, but your heart never stopped beating. That's the secret of Medusa. If you look her directly in her eyes, she will be the one to falter. The stories say you will die, but the heroes who do are the ones too afraid to meet the monster's gaze. They looked into her face, too afraid to look into her eyes, so they perished. Lock eyes with her. She'll startle, and blink, and then you'll be free. Not only free, but powerful.

I want to publish stories about people who faced their demons and survived. Not sensational murder and mayhem stories, but stories about real people who are able to transform pain and defeat into something joyful, and in so doing, change the world for the better.

My Muse kisses the top of my head. "I like it. When do we get started?"