Come find me at https://blueinkonadragonstail.wordpress.com/
you’ve been following this blog you will have noticed Barb, Kay and I have different
writing styles. We all have different experiences that have shaped our lives
and brought us together at this point. Yet we share the same goal - to write
and be published.
as we have different experiences, we have, naturally, different personalities. I’m
the recluse. There is nothing I like more than tapping on my keyboard, writing. Give
me a cave, let me roam from it occasionally, and I’d be happy.
this doesn’t mean I’m not aware of the world outside my cave. I just respond to
the ‘differently’ in mind, I’ve decided to start a diary of sorts and share my
joy, angst and frustration as I strive to create my novel. And the beginning of
this novel had an unusual start.
Once Upon A Time…..
A few years back I fell in love
with a band called MUSE. There was one particular song that made my imagination
soar. While I listened to this piece of
music, it invoked images of fighting with swords in a modern setting and a
contemporary modern fantasy was born.
At the time, my family only had
one computer and everyone wanted to use it at the same time, so it was easier
to write my story by hand. Around the same time I started the story, where I live was struck by the
tail end of cat 5 cyclone. Luckily for us, we only got the equivalent of a cat 3. (For those who don't know, a cat 5 cyclone has winds more than 280km/ph.)
Little did I realise how the
cyclone would impact my story.
Our house didn’t escape unscathed
from the cyclone and we sustained a lot of water damage. Unfortunately, there
was also damage we didn’t see. Because the
house had been shaken so much by the winds, it had caused a small leak in a water
pipe and a few months after the event, nearly all the bedrooms, toilet and
bathroom had been affected to the point the floor had to be replaced. Consequently
the family moved downstairs and the dining room and living room became our
bedrooms. We were all cramped together. There is such a thing as too much
My bed was a mattress in the
dining room, and while the children were sleeping in the living room, my
husband snoring beside me, I would have a book light and continue writing with
my notebook resting on my knees.
It was at this point I realised my
story was not working. It was frustrating to say the least. It was a good
story. At least I thought so, and one worth sticking with. But at that point I was ‘over it’. I was
frustrated with the house and everything else in general and just wanted to
walk away. But my mind is always thinking, always busy, and quite rudely pointed
out at least I was in the time I was in and it would have been worse if I had
lived at the turn of the century.
Like a lightbulb turning on in my
head, I realised the story wasn’t meant to be modern.
And my epic fantasy was born.
is a passion, I don’t think I could stop if I tried. If I’m not physically
typing or scribbling on paper, my mind is busy composing stories. Wouldn’t it
be great if somehow I could retrieve all those thoughts from my mind? At any