Fact in fiction…
In writing Tobias, I’ve had to read such a lot of information about so many aspects of life for my characters…
In writing Tobias, I’ve had to read such a lot of information about so many aspects of life for my characters…
Those who know me as a historical fiction writer, also know me as a beach lover and someone who spends much time walking on beaches up and down my coast. Sometimes I just daydream about whatever I’m working on at the time. Sometimes I just live in the moment. And sometimes I become an interior decorator because living by the sea, one doesn’t have to spend a fortune on trendy decorating pieces…
Been a pretty tough week in my neck of the woods this week. So what sustains me?
The dogs…
It’s Valentine’s Day and it’s raining outside.
What to do after one has exchanged chocolates with the love of one’s life?
(Note: this post contains spoilers of The Gisborne Saga.)
Most of my reviews are excellent, between 4.5 and 5 stars, but recently a reviewer remarked of Gisborne: Book of Kings that the ending was twee. She still gave me a high star ranking for which I am very grateful, but I’m guessing she didn’t like the way in which the story was resolved…
What does one do in January, albeit the end of the month, and one’s eyes are tired from writing and the weather is disastrous, cold and so very NOT summer?
One hops in the car and heads up the coast to wave-watch…
Perhaps the first point about being indie is that it isn’t easy for the uninitiated…
Sometimes it’s great to just leave research books, pages of writing and notes and the computer far behind and spend the day with family, just thinking of nothing in particular. Trust me, the muse was there. How could she not be with the beauty of the place? But she was as prepared to just ‘be’ as I was…
*Play this song whilst you read this post.*
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Swnp4NOitxs
My first ever friend was at primary school – Sue – and she and I remained friends forever. Till she sadly died of cancer a few years ago. When I went to visit her for the last time at her home on the farm, it was just before my first book was published and I sat on the edge of her bed and she took my hand and said ‘I’ll be watching Prue, and I want you to do this and do it well. You were always the writer at school.’
Sue died the next day and I remember leaving her farm and driving through the gates and onto the dusty road and then pulling over and sobbing that such a vibrant person who took so much interest in everyone else’s lives should be leaving us…