A couple of weeks ago, I was asked the question ‘What is the power of fiction?’
My response was immediate.
‘Absolutely tremendous,’ I said.
‘But how?’ I was asked.
Another Saturday and rather troubling at how fast they come around because it means Christmas gets closer faster, and I haven’t cooked anything yet. The garden, my writing, and being a new grandparent all get in the way.
I’ve mentioned our Matchbox garden periodically. It’s a tiny garden that enables us to retreat to peace when we have to go to the city to stay.
I was reading some commentary on Facebook detailing people’s preference as readers and writers in respect of love scenes in novels, In this case romance novels. Do we like raw, flesh-toned intimacy with all the bells and whistles or do we prefer the subtler approach – the ‘less is more’ approach?
I haven’t been part of Six on Saturday for very long but it’s fairly obvious I’m growing a white garden. For many, I daresay white can be boring, but this evening, my husband and I walked in the gate from a dog-walk and the whites and ivories glowed like moonbeams. They provide their own sort of luminescence and in fact for me, it’s a kind of secretive garden at night – pearly light leading me on.
But guess what? I do have colour! Some of the plants have little backstories and it’s that which allows them to take their part in my white garden.