A messy writing week…
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’ve been re-reading The Shifu Cloth to reacquaint myself with the Celestials that will appear here and there in the fantasy, Cabinet of Curiosities (20,000 words written to date).
Perhaps I should explain why I’m writing another fantasy when essentially, my list is hist.fict. (Not counting Passage which on reflection, perhaps I should have written under a pseudonym as it is hard to position within my brand).
Writing fantasy is like taking a holiday to an unexplored, infinitely strange and seductive location. It lets my brain diverge from fact, to apply colour and drama with impressionist abandon. I’ve talked about this often. Different writing rules apply. Rules that can be bent and stretched more than with hist.fict. Maybe it’s like doing Tai Chi and yoga all at once – it stretches the muscles, taking the kinks out but allowing meditation at the same time.
I completely understand if you’ve lost me at this point – the ‘need’ to write fantasy as I explore facts for a historical fiction book is very hard to explain, even to myself. But I love plunging into the world of myth and legend, where mists shroud truths and mortals are apt to be sucked into terrifyingly beautiful worlds.
Maybe we should just call it a holiday…
I’m lacking energy you see, owing to my annual bout of spring bronchitis. It’s one of those times when I’m so glad to be an indie author, with no timeframe nor genre etched in cement by a publishing contract. Only a loosely worded contract with myself which changes on a daily basis, dependent on the sun shining and health and welfare.
This morning, I’ve spent idle time lying in bed coughing, after spending slabs of last night lying in bed coughing. So I went to Pinterest and pinned posts on Hoarding Hist.Fact and on The Shifu Cloth’s and Cabinet of Curiosities’ boards.
The visuals stir me and create their own strands of ‘story’ about which I can muse as the day progresses.
Actually, between you and me, I pinned to a few other boards as well, but don’t tell anyone.
Outside, the temperature will reach 17 and I must partake at some point – get some sea air with the dog to try and clear my airways. Sit in the sun perhaps and watch the garden grow.
Maybe embroider the edges of a little needlebook for my daughter…
…and finish the cover for a small fabric book for myself. That requires some thought as to its contents – maybe fabric swatches in blues, maybe washi paper with some memorable quotes on stitching written thereon.
Not sure, but not much energy to do more.
Then again, it is the weekend…
Have a good one, my friends.