01 02 03 Amorina Rose Writes: Diary of Sorts 04 05 15 16 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 31 32 33

Diary of Sorts

Come find me at https://blueinkonadragonstail.wordpress.com/
Hi guys

If 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.  

Just 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.

However, this doesn’t mean I’m not aware of the world outside my cave. I just respond to it differently. 

With 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 family time.

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.

Writing 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 time?

Always keep dreaming.



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