Throughout time, there have been women story tellers and writers. They weren't always published, but they existed. And for as long as there have been stories, there has been PMS. True, some women handle their PMS with ease. Others have discomfort, but get on with their lives.

And then there are women like me.

You know who you are. For two solid weeks, you grow increasingly unstable. Slightly nuts. Impressively cranky. Some might use the word rabid. (But only those who are unwise and enjoy violence.) The chips and the sour cream might as well be on tap and the candy flows like butter. The words, which you're more inclined to steal time to listen to because everyone and every thing is getting on your last damn nerve, soothe your tormented senses. PMS is, occasionally, good for us.

Blasphemy, I know. But the truth is, our cycles might actually have some bearing on our creativity. I know I become more single minded. Quite a bit more ruthless. Less concerned about if I SHOULD be writing something or if I think I can or not. Instead, I'm just getting the ideas out. Darker, richer ideas that I would normally second guess myself away from. Come to think of it, that's probably how I got started writing my erotica book.

Have you ever noticed what happens to your writing? You might be surprised.

Take me as a further example. At first, I didn't give it a lot of thought. My cycle is just part of my life and writing can be sporadic, but I started to notice a trend: I can plot some really good stories when I'm in the mood to rip people's heads off. I'm suspicious (good plots) and sarcastic (funny dialogue) and short-tempered (concise sentences!). And the best part is that I think up some really impressive stuff because I'm so full of hormones I could take on the world.

Just last night, hubby was meeting a friend at a coffee shop. As is often the case, the place was flooded with folks using computers and drinking a giant cuppa joe. The next table over I notice the guy there is reading a book. He's keeping his laptop on, but he's all about the book. This goes on for 40 minutes and he's friendly, but I don't pay a whole lot of attention to him. Except that he keeps hitting that space bar every few minutes...

Then suddenly, he gets up and leaves the shop, leaving his laptop, bag and the plug behind. The book is even abandoned on the table, open on it's face.

For ten minutes.

I keep watching for him, but he's gone. And that lap top is still there, facing away. What could be on it? Who leaves their expensive property unattended that long? Where did he go and why hasn't he come back?

I start to twitch. To stress. To me, it's becoming painfully clear what could happen when someone abandons equipment. Call me paranoid, but this puppy gets her ass out of Dodge. Hubby thinks I'm nuts, but all I can see is the laptop exploding and glass flying and fire billowing into a giant ball as the cord proves to be connected not to a bulky extension but to a cleverly concealed stash of C-4....

Of course, it's all going on in my head. As I hustle the family out of the shop, I notice the guy saunter back in. Where he went, I'll never know, but I'll have to thank him if I ever see him again.

Cause even though I can't write suspense on any other day, hey, I just got the start of a great book!

So, is this another one of Dee's crazy ideas or might there be something to it?