My hist fict trilogies have been reduced to a gobsmacking 99 cents until Christmas Eve.
I have no idea where I’ve been the last few weeks.
Somewhere enjoyable? Yes, or else I wouldn’t have had a complete memory lapse about the approach of business and the real world.
Was it somewhere doing everything and nothing? Yes. Lots of everything, actually.
But wherever it was, and whatever I’ve been doing, (researching, writing, family – mostly family, masterclasses, birthdays, nannying and more), it made me completely forget that over this next week, there was a plan to offer all my historical fiction e-books at a SALE PRICE.
It began some time ago.
I located a map of my most desired area and opened it on the screen with a cup of tea and a cookie at my side. I slipped on my reading glasses and bent over the map.
I knew the treasure would be located somewhere between 12th century Lyon and the Forez. It had to be. After all, my last trilogy had played into those areas. Particularly the novel ‘Guillaume.’
The biggest hurdle though, was distance.
The distance between me and those areas. Me in Australia is a long and so very expensive way from France.
But then this is not insurmountable.
…hit me like a steam-train when I read it on Instagram. I can’t find the original spokesperson, someone called ‘Wood’, or I would pay credit, but as an historical novelist writing about the twelfth century, in particular Lyon and Constantinople, the words had complete resonance.
And try and say that quickly!!!
You know of course that a snifter is a brandy balloon…
…a piece of glassware that is narrower at the top than the bowl and concentrates the heady aroma of the liquor to the nose.
And in essence that’s what this post is.
Three free snifters designed to titillate your palate and give you an idea of what’s emerging from my little grey cells.
Yesterday, I found a nugget of research for my new 12th century novel entitled A Small Thread of Silk.
I discovered that a very special artefact was in fact 6 metres long.
So what, you may ask?
Well, in imperial measurements, that’s over 19 feet. And that extra-long measurement gives me scope.
A messy writing week, this week.
The redeeming point is that I’ve been researching the new 12th century hist.fict – tongue-in-cheek titled The Book With No Name. To date, I’ve been chasing relics and worthy illuminations in French nunneries of the 12th century. And filled with theft and jealousies they are, I tell you! Religion was nothing if not a business, often a dishonest one. Just like trade. Blend the two and one might just have a novel!
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 wonder, does life become less of an adventure or more as one ages?
Let’s face it, when we’re young, we’re strong, fearless and the world’s our oyster. As we age and our bodies require more protection than they’ve ever had, perhaps we lose that sense of adventure. Or maybe, just maybe, because we are on the downward slope (let’s be honest here), we lose our inhibitions and look for more adventure, maybe even more danger to fire up the sense of achievement and adrenalin levels.