My new
novel The Bad Child is at last
out there now strutting her stuff (I
hope you're taking a look at her...) And I've just about completed my creative contribution
to the fascinating Damselfly Books Website.
And now,
like other professional writers I find there's this nagging question in my ear.
So what next, Wendy. What next? The
usually cluttered storytelling attic that is my head is disturbingly empty. But
the truth is that the creative nature abhors a vacuum and ideas are beginning
to settle in up there, coming into a new life. There they are, swirling about,
making patterns in the air.
It seems
to me that once an idea has settled there firmly in my attic
head, it begins to attract fragments of memory and the urge to make
notes, read books and absorb further inspiration. These things are like iron
filings dancing around in the dusty air, making shapes around the intensely powerful
magnet that is the new story idea. The shapes are not fixed. They can change
with every movement of the magnet. The iron filings may consist of historical
sources, images, artefacts, songs, stories, maps, photographs and actual landscapes.
This was
very much the case with my Celtic/Roman
novel The Pathfinder. The first
fragment settling clinging to a wall
in the attic was an article I read about what are called Lines of
Desire. Then, somehow, I kept
bumping into elements of this idea in different
books, articles in the press and on the Internet.
The Book The Kindle |
The term Lines
of Desire refers to the facts that, for several thousands of years,
straight roads and pathways were naturally
formed by the foot-tread and the wheel marks of generations of men, women and
children making their way - not just through Britain - but throughout Europe and even further afield.
These pathways were established as travellers and traders, families and
individuals, made their way through the landscape, going about their business
of their daily life.
Lines of Desire is still
referred to today in urban planning to describe the roads that are made on new
ground as people find their own straight way usually the shortest distance
between two points in a landscape.
Of course,
this ie very efficient, as the Romans
demonstrated this merely two thousand years ago, when they used many of the old
straight British paths as the basis for their straight roads throughout Britain. Of
course the business the Romans were going
about was the conquest of the then known world. Their roads were certainly
their own lines of desire.
In the
beginning my novel The Pathfinder
was actually entitled Lines of Desire.
But as I moved the magnet again around my attic as the story grew, I began to
think that title ambiguous, too off-piste
I was becoming
fascinated by the complex and interesting lives of the original Pathfinders,
often left in the shadow of the powerful Roman definitions of early British
history. One more shake of the magnet and out stepped my heroine Elen,
a great Pathfinder, daughter of another Pathfinder, a powerful British
tribal trading king, in in the land we now call Wales.
At last I
could see that my job as a writer was to use my imagination to bring to life
this landscape, these people those times, these forefathers of my readers,
these unique people. My prose has to allow my readers to experience the reality
of Elen’s world, her powerful father, her artistic mother, he warrior brothers;
the brother who was a poet and a song-maker. I had to breathe life into her the man who became
her husband, husband a Roman general, and trace their joint pathway through the
history of their times. to trace their impact on history,
And now at
last I have come to the end of another two years and finished the next
entirely different story The Bad Child. I have spent a year or so in the modern world alongside
the rebellious Dee Belasis who has decided not to speak. But she can draw. Boy
can she draw!
Book and Kindle |
But the
magnet does its magic again. I was halfway through the novel - still inside Dee’s un-speaking head - when by accident I
heard a Radio 4 programme about drawing and the making of meaning and idea
which fitted my story like a glove. It gave another player to the whole
narrative.
It’s a
funny way to make a living isn’t it? Playing
iron filings and magnets to make my stories swing into real life,.
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