I apologise if you’ve missed me!
It’s been a challenging few weeks since the last post.
Some significant Unwellness, then what can be best described as a mojo deficiency.
Thanks go out to my darling bride Meredith, my housemate Stevie, my doctor Jess, and a bunch of good people at Lismore Hospital.
I’m back now, taking it gently, but importantly back in front of my keyboard and writing again.
Best piece of advice I’ve heard lately:
A writer has the luxury of creating their own reality to play in.
If you like mine, check the Market Place page to find how to explore it further.
.o0o.
If I could build my own little world, what would it be like?
The temperature would average around 17 degrees C. Some days would be warmer, but I’d be lying on a beach enjoying a sea breeze so that’d be okay.
Sometimes it would be a whole lot colder, with snow on the ground and the Merry Dancers lighting up the sky. But rugged up inside a good coat and warm lined boots, that would be alright too.
There’d be beaches and mountains and forests. Small towns with just enough shops, bars and restaurants to be interesting, not overwhelming.
Lots of birds and animals. All of them living undisturbed. Allowed to do what they do – live, die, hunt, graze – without anyone saying “Oh that’s awful” or “Not on my land”.
Sparrows, songbirds, and soaring eagles. Rabbits, rhinos and rattlesnakes. All in their place, wherever their place may be.
The sea full of dolphins, whales, turtles and rays. Sharks even. Dazzling coloured fish like living rainbows, swarming around reefs unspoiled by greedy developers and governments.
And people. I’m not so solitary as to live in a world with no other people. Not just people I already know, otherwise how would I ever make new friends and learn new things?
The people living in my little world wouldn’t all be like each other, or even necessarily like each other. But they’d respect each other – their similarities and their differences. Even if they chose not to live alongside one another, peace would reign between them.
People would die because you have to have balance: light and dark, light and death. But that death would be peaceful, and happen in the time and manner of a person’s own choosing.
In my own little world magic works. It just is. I don’t need to have scientists and mathematicians and philosophers account for every detail, every action and reaction.
Stuff happens. I accept it. I believe in the fundamental rightness of it. It doesn’t need my understanding to keep happening – it just needs me to not interfere.
It’s a nice little world.
I think we had one a bit like it, once.
I wonder: how much to read while I’m writing?
I posted this comment on the excellent page of WitheringThyme (recommended reading, BTW). As I wrote it occurred to me to ask this question of my own readership…
I find I’m torn when I’m in the process of writing (and that’s most of the time). I love to read other writers’ work, especially though not exclusively fantasy. I’ve gotten past the whole “Oh, I’ll never be as good as this” self-doubt thing, realising that we’re all different with different things to offer. But I do worry that I’ll find myself channelling or copying their style or content, consciously or otherwise. I’m curious to hear others thoughts? Thanks!
(And remember – you’re invited to visit my Market Place page to see what I have ‘out there’ at present!)
RENOIR - Words 