Years ago, I was on my way to teach a class in writing fiction and I was listening to the radio. I hate to admit it, but this was before CD's. The music inspired a scene. I could see a woman in a long gown, medieval style, her hair covering her face, her sobs combining with the music. A tall man was standing over her, shaking his head. He was telling her the babe was not his. I thought I was losing it. As soon as I got to school, I started writing. And Heartsong was born. I've come to the conclusion, some authors, especially me, are a bit --ummmmm--strange!