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Gisborne: Book of Pawns 22/02/2013-26/02/2013
The unearthing of Richard III’s remains has redefined how we all view history. To think that the body, hastily thrown in a grave 600 years ago, was unearthed at a time when forensic study can offer so much detail reminds me of the phrase ‘let there be light!’.
(So called because I really write about him best when I have a cup of tea and one of ‘these’ to nibble on…)
I suppose if you want to be frightfully posh, you could call them biscotti and forget about the Guy of Gisborne bit but then why would you want to do that?
Historical fiction is incredibly demanding to write. There are rules, there are undeniable facts and there is respect for antecedents. There are also different styles of writing the genre. In a recent post on English History Authors Blogspot the difference in those styles was examined. In fact it seems there are what one might call sub-genres: ‘history light’, ‘history interwoven’, ‘history imagined’ and ‘history based on a true story’.
My blog is part of the Australia Day Book Giveaway Blog Hop this weekend.
If you comment, you’ll have the chance to win an e-copy of The Shifu Cloth for Kindle or Kobo, and also an e-copy of the international fantasy award silver medallist A Thousand Glass Flowers for Kindle. AND by clicking on this link and visiting all the other listed blogs, you can have the chance to win remarkable books at each blog.
I played my CD of The Hobbit soundtrack for the first time today – in the car on the way to the city. It was certainly cinemagraphic and … big. I loved the theme, as iconic as Harry Potter or Downton Abbey. Once heard never forgotten. I loved the way little riffs of the theme unfurled through other pieces, I loved the Dwarves singing. Richard Armitage’s deep tones in the opening bars of Misty Mountains are spine-tingling. And of course, anything elvish stands the hairs on the neck.
Wake up and get straight into swimsuit. Sky is pale blue, maybe smoke haze from Victoria.
Down to the beach to favourite pozzie in front of pine trees. Smells resinous in the warmth.
In water by 10AM. Glorious. Walk through waist deep shallows in boat channel, moving out of way of incomers and outgoers. Then just dive in and swim a few lengths between the marker poles. Float on back like a star. Hair drifting out, rocking with the odd tiny wave, can hear the odd tic-tic-tic sound of ‘under the sea’.