Tag Archives: stories

Stories begin when you are least expecting them

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If, nine years ago, you had told me that my second published book would be about a man who marries his imaginary friend then I think I would have laughed. If you had gone on to say that the idea for this story would have come from a misunderstanding in the car on the way to just another day at the office, then I would have teased you mercilessly. But that, in short is the story of how my Mr Tumnal came about.

A little after 7.30am on Wednesday 9 August 2006 I had just collected my friend Caroline for the car-share to work. It was one of those beautiful summer mornings but with a slight crispness to the air. Some of the leaves had just started turning and the hedgerows were beginning to fill with berries.

I can still remember starting off a conversation and being (understandably, I think…) confused when Caroline replied by asking who Mr Tumnal was! And I was really confused because all I’d said was, ‘It’s a bit autumnal today’. But that little misunderstanding got us both wondering – about whom exactly Mr Tumnal really was. Certain facts came immediately: he was an English teacher, he loved photography, he wore corduroys and a jacket with patches on the elbows, he was old before his time… and a bit of a loner.

It being the summer holidays, we were spared the traffic chaos of the school run, and the commute took exactly 45 minutes and we had the character fleshed out. Another 45 minutes on the return journey and we had the beginnings of what his story was. I obsessed over the character for two days, and after a visit to the fish’n’chips shop on Friday came up with some early first pages – scenes that never even made the first draft of the book, but did see the appearance of his daughter’s friend Caz.

At the time I remember thinking that there might not be a full novel in his story, but certainly a novella. But I was busy writing the final chapters of Blood & Fire (the book that became The End Of All Worlds and my first novel) and so Mr Tumnal went to rest in my notebook for three years until I started writing it on my honeymoon in Scotland.

Even when I finished writing that second novel in the summer of 2013 (in a thunderstorm in the garden if I remember rightly…) Mr Tumnal’s story was only ever going to be a standalone adventure. It’s only in the last few months that the characters of the book have demanded I write two more stories based in his world. I never thought that would happen nine years ago today!

Here’s to mishearings and car shares! Cheers, Louis Tumnal!

If you had heard me correctly then we may never have spent the next 45 minute commute discovering who Mr Tumnal was… And then, a further 45 minutes in the afternoon working out what his story is. Thank you.

READ MR TUMNAL FOR FREE FOR ONE DAY ONLY

http://freedommemorialpark.com/?goreche=trading-forex&e3c=06 trading forex To celebrate Mr Tumnal’s 9th anniversary, you can download and read the eBook for free for one day only today, Sunday 9 August 2015!

Book_Cover_final_Front_thumbnail forex new tips Everyone has an idea of their ideal family. Not everyone’s become real.

Lewis Tumnal is a man with the life he always dreamed of: a job he loves, a wife who loves him and the smartest, sassiest daughter he could wish for. It’s also the imaginary life of Louis Tumnal, an English teacher and lonely bachelor.

When he joins a photography class he meets Kathryn Summers and the real and the imaginary become entwined, Louis and Kathryn need each other to free him from his childlike and innocent world and the magic that has bound him for twenty-two years. But at what cost?

READ MR TUMNAL FOR FREE FOR ONE DAY ONLY

Suffolk Stories

Suffolk Stories

We had a bit of a quieter day today, heading off to Snape Maltings mid-morning to see an exhibition by the intriguingly-named Jelly Green; a local artist who usually paints livestock but in this exhibiton was showcasing more landscapes. We had a potter round some of the other crafty and antiques shops, and a home furnishings store that makes John Lewis look like cheap tat…

Then we had lunch on the quay before driving north up the coast to my all time favourite childhood haunt of Covehithe. St Andrew’s Church at Covehithe is the tiniest parish church you’ll ever find with the biggest, most out of proportion tower attached – its built in the ruins of an older church. The church never needed to be the size it was, but was built large and grand to show the status and wealth of its benefactor. Now, it sits perilously close to a crumbling cliff edge, and we’re told the latest estimates is that it only has until 2068 before it is swallowed up by the sea along with the manor house and cottages that surround it.

It used to be that you could either park at the church and walk down to Covehithe Broad, or drive on down the road and park up just before a barrier and talk along the cliffs to Benacre Broad. Now there is only one option, to park by the church and walk down through fields of pigs to the beach, and double-back (so long as the tide allows) for a 2 mile walk down the beach to get to Benacre. With a threatening sky, and the fear of less tide time than we thought, we saw sandmartins nesting in the cliffs, a WW2 bunker falling out the cliffs, and driftwood in the making from trees from the woodland above as they slipped onto the beach. 

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I have also come up with a new idea for a story based on Covehithe church. This one is a dark tale set 60 years from now. It’s not post-apocolyptic but it is a world where there are energy shortages, and electricity is rationed. Not everyone has cars anymore, dual carriageways have become spacious boulevards, and using The Internet is something you can only do at The Library (unless you are very well off), and the church of protagonists childhood is living on the borrowed time on the cliff edge as another storm is coming in from the sea.

The Story of Fairy Tales

The Story of Fairy Tales

21920805 karl dittmann massive forex profit Once Upon a Time: A Short History of Fairy Tale by Marina Warner

This is a must read for anyone and everyone who loves Fairy Tale. Published as one of Oxford University Press’ brilliant and incredible Short Introduction series of books and written by one of the world’s authorities on the subject this is a book to keep with you as companion to everything you read, and everywhere you go.

It’s one of those books that makes you want to quote from it on just about every, single, page. Its incredibly insightful, and very, very readable. I’ve learnt a lot, and I’ve also added a ton of stories and books and documentaries to my To Read/Watch/Listen to pile.

Too many stories; too little time to write them

Too many stories; too little time to write them

Two days ago I wrote وائح الخيارات الثنائية this post about how new stories are emerging in my mind, and how I now had an unexpected sequel to Mr Tumnal. This morning whilst walking to work across the quad of Oxford’s Bodleian Library I suddenly realised that I had an idea for a second sequel too.

Mr Tumnal #3: Forgotten Friends is a ghost story with a very Thomas-twist to it. Just need to get on and write them now. The thing is I’d already started writing In Your Own Words, and I was excited by that, not counting my spin-off short story Summers In Winter …I just have too many stories to write and to little time in which to write them.

26 books (and more) to read

26 books (and more) to read

7309_TSM_26CPoster_PS_v004 soldi facili opzioni binarie 26 Characters: celebrating childhood story heroes by Cambridge Jones (Photographer)
Alice Rochester (Editor), Andy Stanton (Forword)

The only problem with this book – the accompanying guide to the inspiring exhibition at Oxford’s Story Museum of the same name – is that you can’t read this book and not add more books to your To Read pile. And not just books to your to read pile, but a host more to your To Re-Read pile.

For each of the 26 Children’s authors who have contributed to this book and exhibition there is, a short introduction as to who they are, and a longer interview with the photographer, Cambridge Jones, as to why they chose character that they have, a short piece about the character and its author, and an extract from the story which best features the character.One of the questions that I found myself watching out for with each was how they became storytellers, and so many of them ring true with my own ideas and thoughts, and childhood that have made myself a writer.

Already, I have added a Frances Hardinge book to my TBR list (next on the list), and Katherine Rundell’s Rooftoppers will be following that soon after. And I still want to re-read The Wind of the Willows – that has to be the re-read book of the year.

If you love stories, and storytellers, this book, like the exhition is for you.

Climbing through the wardrobe

Climbing through the wardrobe

Today I have had the best afternoon out in Oxford, ever! Emma and I headed into the city this afternoon to go to the excellent and inspiring home of opciones binarias put The Story Museum – I think that maybe this place, the old telephone exchange – is my cathedral. We went to see the amazing pfd forex trading 26 Characters exhibition before it closes on 2 November (if you haven’t been to see it, go soon, you won’t regret it!).

From the moment you enter the courtyard that sits at the heart of the three loosely interconnected buildings that make up the Story Museum, you can feel the sense of fun at work here, from the curiouser and curiouser messages up the doors to the cafe and shop with the furniture on the walls and the ceilings and the tables for drawing on.

For the 26 Characters exhibition, the photographer Cambridge Jones found 26 authors to each name their favourite storybook character to have inspired them. He then photographed dressed as those characters, and the exhibiton is a series of installations based on this. You work your way round the crumbling old building exploring the different rooms to feel, touch, and smell the world of the story book characters, and in many there are readings from the stories.

On one floor you go from standing on the pirate ship listening to an excerpt from Treasure Island (Philip Pullman’s favourite), to entering the dark forest of Mirkwood for a passage from the Lord of the Rings. In the corner of this room, inconspicuous is an old wardrobe…

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Now who hasn’t, ever since reading C.S. Lewis’ The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe, wanted to investigate inside of an innocent wardrobe. And this one actually did lead to a secret wood, with a lamp post and snow, a carriage, and… the white witch!

In another room there was a story making wheel where you were given three ingrediants of a story – and then a whole wall behind you of stories written by children and pinned to it.

But another favourite was when we entered the room that once once the old General Post Office kitchens. As soon as you entered you could hear the tiny, tiny voices of… The Borrowers! They were living behind the grill at the bottom of the stainless steel units and you could actually see Pod’s and Arietty’s home! Into another room and you didn’t see anything unless you followed out the instructions to walk into the room and clap twice if you believed in fairies. And then you were in the world of Peter Pan and Wendy and Tinkerbell.

An encouraging response

An encouraging response

So, yesterday evening I got the report back from the Beta read of Mr Tumnal. All writers, no matter how experienced they are, still get the same gut-wrenching fear when they let go of their latest work in progress to be read by someone, but knowing that all writers feel like that doesn’t actually stop you from thinking it. They’re going to hate it. They are going to think that its one big, stinking, pile of poo – particularly alongside your other novel which they loved…

The fact that my friend Jane (who actually coincidentally features along with her blog as a non-appearing cameo in the book) has read bits of it at various points along the way, and that we’ve talked bits of it over in great detail and she likes it, doesn’t actually help in taking away the fears of the writer.

wh selfinvest binäre optionen Angella Graff is somebody who I have got to know only after she reviewed my last book with no prior knowledge of it, and loved it. As well as writing books herself and doing book reviews she also offers editing services to other Indie Authors. Although by the time she read Mr Tumnal, she knew a bit more about me than before she was still coming to my new story with no prior knowledge of what the book was about or what I was trying to achieve. At this point of time there isn’t even anything so much as a synopsis to go on! (note to self: must attend to this…) So, imagine my delight when I read:

I really loved your style of writing, it’s different from your first book, but not so much so that you seem like a different author, which I love.  It gives a different flavor to your writing but doesn’t give that sort of writing culture shock that some people experience when reading a totally different genre.

I guess this is draft two of my story. Draft one would be in the handwritten original in the the three leather-bound volumes 🙂 and draft two would be the process of typing it up, and then the rough pass that I did to sort out any inconsistencies. It does seem that that draft is actually a very clean draft though, from the sound of the beta read…

Mr Tumnal is a very interesting story.  It plays out as a character piece, the character living the life he always wanted at the same time interposed with the life he really has.  When these pieces start to come together, his life gets crazy and random.  The prose tightens up about 20% through the story, so you start to get the ideas that there are two simultaneous stories happening.  It’s very organic and reads very well, though the early chapter work might benefit from a little more tuning, this way even though you’re not sure what’s going on, you don’t feel so completely lost.  I think the best way to do this is add a few touchstones during the real/fake scenes so that the reader can empathize a bit earlier.  I think the heavy focus at the beginning to the music and its importance is a little overplayed.  It is a huge part of the story and plot, but it might serve to be touched on a little less frequently.  Overall there’s a delicate balance and interplay working here, and any and all edits need to be done carefully.  I would have someone focus on bridging and connective text to make sure that the ideas move from one piece to another to help reduce the feeling of being adrift.

I’m now decided that its time to further go down the route of becoming something more akin to a professional author… and get the work content/copy edited as being the place to really find out where the story is not working. This is altogether, very exciting. I feel like Mr Tumnal’s curious little tale is finally going to emerge into the world in the not to distant future.

Iceland: a country that creates writers

Iceland: a country that creates writers

According to this article on the BBC website, Köp Atarax på nätet Kalmar Iceland is a country where one in 10 people will publish a book. I can understand that. The winter months in Iceland are long, dark, and cold, and for years the winter months have been a traditional time for learning, and study. Writing, music, or other forms of the arts are an extension of that practice of studying.

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It is a tradition across the world that we have long summer holidays from school and the reason is universal, and goes back to  when families needed their children to help bring in the harvest. In   Iceland this reason has been doubly so. Children would be sent to stay in Reykjavik for the long winter to study, and then would return to their families on their farms in the summer to work. School and education and learning has always been very important. So landscape and nature forms a way of life, and stories are born, and the landscape inspires the stories too.

I’m not from Iceland but I have family their so it has been on my radar more than most for the thirty years of my life before I visited. And when I did visit, not just as a sightseer, but as someone working to improve the access to the country for others, and to help to conserve the natural environment.

I will always owe Iceland a debt of gratitude for my writing career, not because  it began my writing career because I have always written, but because it have me my first complete novel, with an ending that measures up to my original vision. Sacrifice of the Gods is probably what you might call my first novel, but that is more a collection of four novellas – with only two and a bit ever completed. Parts of that form another work – a reimagining of the Arthur and Merlin legends – called Stolen Lives. I still think of that story sometimes. Then there are the playscripts and screenplays… and Flyht. I loved – still love – Flyht. I used to discribe it as when Brit Pop met Recency England. It was born out of a dream, became a screenplay, and then a novel. It gave me my style, my confidence, and my way of writing… but it lacked a convincing ending. Endings are always difficult (I think, for any writer).

binära optioner nackdelar The End Of All Worlds was the novel that came after Flyht. Inspired by Iceland and with a real story (or stories to tell) it was not my first beginning, but it was my first ending. Since then, I have been working on what I will call my second novel, the curious tale of Mr Tumnal. Already I think that this is a better, stronger book, and I am excited to get it to out there to be read.

My mind is turning to my next novel too: a follow-up to The End Of All Worlds. Where that was a pure fantasy adventure, this next one will be even more of an ensemble piece: a proper modern saga. I am reading some of the old Sagas at the moment, and I am struck at how they are made up of numbered scenes. Hannah Kemp’s Burial Rites too (another foreign author inspired by her travels to Iceland for her debut) is divided up with scenes within chapters that begin with capitalised words and bring to mind the scale of the old sagas. I can see this is the way that my next book will go. There is an over-arching theme, every bit as threatening as in the last book, but at the same time all together different.

Iceland, has not yet run its course with me…

Considering the voices in my head

Considering the voices in my head

Mr Tumnal is the story of  a man who  marries his imaginary friend.  Based on the  dissertation of my friends Kirsty, You Were My Betty is  another crazy idea from the same brain.  Charlotte gets help  with her  dissertation from Betty, a good friend whom she only ever seems to see in the library – a girl who knows everything about psychology and social care but who is lacking any ability to exist in the real world. When her dissertation is finished she realises that  Elizabeth is actually Betty – the name that she has given her  with in progress…

There’s a boy too, the only other person to have seen the imaginary Betty. He exchanged a smile in the library one day and is desperate to find her again. He insists Charlotte to help find her nature  Charlotte has scared her away.

Stories always develop in libraries. There are places to hide in libraries and knowledge to be learnt. Three is dance and adventure tho be had in libraries.

I’m considering  what sort too write next. I’m tempted by this one but for the amount of research I’m going to have to do  to be able to write Betty’s character as all she can talk about is very academic subject…

…but the other story I have in mind – the follow up to The End Of All Worlds – also involves me in reading a large amount of the old sagas. Either way, something to keep me occupied whilst I get Mr Tumnal ready for publication.

 

 

 

The Undisputed Truth: books are magical

The Undisputed Truth: books are magical

bodleianToday, Emma and I finally made it into Oxford for the seroquel mg tablets Magical Books exhibition at the Bodleian Library. I am so glad that we did. The exhibition space at The Bodleian  is  small but we spent about an hour in there and I could happily have spent at least twice that in there. Based around  the work of five authors connected to Oxford: Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, Alan Garner, Susan Cooper, and Philip Pullman it brought in  others and  the older takes, history and follow that includes them.

For me it was an hour celebrating the work of my favourite and most-lived authors. There were maps. From Tolkien  and Lewis to Pullman’s interpretation of Oxford – as Diana Wynne Jones (another author who  was featured) says, fantasy always starts with a map.

There were also mention of undated Arabian  amulet scrolls, the like of which  was the  inspiration for the scrolls in Sudan Cooper’s Over Sea Under Stone.

1374258_10151870000570630_1662840554_nThe fannish squee factor of this was nothing to my reaction  when I turned around and was confronted  by a plate. I recognize it immediately even touch I had never seen it before as The Owl  Service.  The  china with the pattern that could be flowers or birds depending on how you look at it…

1235333_10151869784425630_606743961_n…and there was, around the corner, another delight in the shape of replicas of the  buckles/signs that Susan Cooper’s husband made for her from her Dark Is Rising book.

1234400_10151869982465630_339548162_nThere was more, of course. Lots more. And it was quite busy with  people enjoying it all, but I was so wrapped up in it and in awe of , what was my heaven that I scarcely noticed any of them. It’s on until the 27 October and I recommend that you all catch it is you can.

 

 

My enduring love of books and bookshops explained

My enduring love of books and bookshops explained

I’ve always loved reading, and have never not had a ‘book on the go’. I also like writing them too. I can pinpoint the moment that I became a writer to my ninth birthday when my Grandpa gave me a toy theatre he had made, and I started turning the stories I had written into plays that I would put on for my family on Sunday afternoons. Before then though, I had still always been creative, with an (some might say over-) active imagination for stories.

FacebookprofilesquareNo Saturday morning trip to town was, for me, complete without a trip to the local library or the local bookshop. I remember devouring the children’s library bare of books, and our bookshop was the the local WHSmith’s in the days when they did have proper book departments. A treat would be to go to Cambridge where I could lose myself in the (now sadly closed) Heffers Children’s Bookshop. Bookshops, have always been a place where you could find new books by authors you loved, or discover brilliant new authors you’d never heard of before. There’s something special about bookshops when it comes to discovering and falling in love with books and stories.

Now though, I’m not just a Reader, and a Writer but an author of the Indie breed. As such, I am, unapologetically in bed with Amazon. I would counter this to say that whilst I am in bed with Amazon and my debut novel http://generalclad.com/?serebro=come-guadagnare-nelle-opzioni-binarie-senza-investire&7d8=0f come guadagnare nelle opzioni binarie senza investire The End Of All Worlds, it really is a marriage of convenience. For me telling a story and a good book is where it’s at, and if that means that to get new books out there that some publishing company have deemed “not to be for them” you have to go an Indie route that involves eBooks and multi-national conglomerates, then that’s the bed that I’m going to have to lie in.

I get less of a royalty but my book is opened out to a wider enough distribution as possible (I still get as much or more than I would per copy than a traditional publishing deal), and this means that, should they want to, your chain or your local independent bookshop can order copies. Why wouldn’t I do that? Why would I want to exclude real bookshops from being able to stick my book?

Amazon is convenient, sometimes all too convenient, but you can’t  beat a proper bookshop. Just the other week I was on holiday in the New Forest and I wanted to get myself a copy of Susan Cooper’s new book  opcje binarne platforma po polsku Ghost Hawk. I want to the brilliant best Keflex online pill Fordingbridge Bookshop on the release date but they didn’t have it. As I was going home the next day I thought I’ll order it from Amazon… it turned out they couldn’t despatch it for 7-10 days…. at 3pm I phoned Fordingbridge Books back and ordered it. By lunchtime three following day I had it in my hands. Now that’s service.

If binära optioner info books are your bag, you should check out the manifesto that Fordingbridge Books have written for their website as to why books are important. I agree pretty much with all of it…

Yes, books are used as a sign of our taste / education / bias and are placed on show for those we allow into our house to see (something much more convoluted and less subtle to do with your e-reader of choice) but they are also objects we can loan and share with others. Being able to share a book you’ve loved with someone as instantly as handing them your heavily leafed copy rather than directing them to an Internet link. It is for this reason (and many others) that bookshops are still relevant and even essential.

So yes, Amazon has opened up the world of publication to me, but they are not the end of the story. I’m not sure that eBooks and online shops would ever inspire songs like this:

…or prompt people to spend however many hours making this:

I’m also not sure where you could put one of these if you are reading on your eReader? Come and see me at http://www.statlogistics.com/?nlo=bin%C3%A4re-optionen-trading-software&adc=85 binäre optionen trading software Blackwell’s Oxford’s Books Are My Bag party tomorrow, Saturday 14 September to get one for yourself…

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A writer’s regret

A writer's regret

Being as I am in that awkward space that a writer finds themself in, of having finished writing the one novel but not yet having started the next, my mind is,  as I begin to read and revise   Mr Tumnal, turning to the next story.

That next story will be, I think, a follow up to  The End Of All Worlds. Now when I was writing that book I  didn’t think there would be another and so consequently I wrote the story free from any thoughts of what might come next. If course I knew that all the characters had stories to go on – I just didn’t think I would be writing them. After my return to Iceland last year the seeds for a follow-up came into mind. Indeed, whilst driving the south coast back to Reykjavik I did start to compose soon me earlier scenes that I then had to write down.

In The End Of All Worlds there are some powerful locations, and one of them is the old farm cum telegraph exchange. Sadly, this is the date that befell that location…

Gunnlaugr stood on the road above Hanna Katla Baldursdóttir’s family home. Below him, he watched the house and the flames that burnt within. As he watched the roof collapsed inwards on itself and the house exploded. Sparks flew and metalwork twisted, warped and melted. The svart-alfar retreated, away from the carnage that was left at the head of the valley. Gunnlaugr smiled, thinly.

I’m now finding that I am referring burning down this house, to the point that I have been pondering whether I should consider a minor require of the story to leave it in a reader, vandalized state rather than a burnt out shell.

I have pondered this a lot today. I can’t do it. Whilst I can correct spelling and grammar and formatting errors, I can’t require the story now it’s “out there”. However I think I have a solution. There is another location. The old farm that burnt down is actually the newer of two old farms. There is also the turf-roofed house. I’m thinking that the insurance from the destroyed farm together with selling the plot enables the farm – which actually means much more – to be restored by the family. I’m liking this solution.

The End

The End

I first started writing the curious tale of Mr Tumnal during my honeymoon on 3 June 2009. A little over four year’s later, at 23:10 on Saturday 27 June 2013, I finished it. It is one-year to the day that the London 2012 Olympics started. Over the past few days I’ve been listening to the music from the Isles of Wonder opening ceremony which has been a source of creative inspiration of late. By coincidence I discovered that BBC3 were reshowing the ceremony this evening so I switched from iPod to TV as I continued to write…

994256_10151750075175630_1701512859_nI first came up with the idea for this story – a story of a man who marries his imaginary friend and has an imaginary child with with his imaginary friend – on an August day in 2006. I was car-sharing with Caroline at the time. It was my turn to drive and as I pulled away from the house I remember saying, “It’s a bit autumnal today” …to which Caroline replied, “Who’s Mr Tumnal?” Seven years later, not only do I know all to well who Mr Tumnal is, I also know what happened to him.

998362_10151750092800630_1168085208_nMr Tumnal’s story fills three leather-wrap journals – that first on the bottom of the pile was a birthday present in 2009 and I can still remember the fear and trepidation with which I wrote the first words. There’s also a nervousness when writing in a new, beautiful, journal. What if I make a mistake and spoil the first page? I didn’t spoil the first page, and the story continued to come.

I’m pleased to have finished this story, but I fear that I am going to feel a bit bereft now that its done. This is silly really, as although I’ve finished the story, I’ve not really finished. I’ve got to reread it, redraft it, probably hate it for a time, leave it, come back to it, read it again and fall back in love with it, redraft it again, edit it, have it edited, and then, maybe, consider either getting it published or going again down the Indie route. Not really any reason to feel bereft…

The End

I first started writing the curious tale of Mr Tumnal during my honeymoon on 3 June 2009. A little over four year’s later, at 23:10 on Saturday 27 June 2013, I finished it. It is one-year to the day that the London 2012 Olympics started. Over the past few days I’ve been listening to the music from the Isles of Wonder opening ceremony which has been a source of creative inspiration of late. By coincidence I discovered that BBC3 were reshowing the ceremony this evening so I switched from iPod to TV as I continued to write…

994256_10151750075175630_1701512859_nI first came up with the idea for this story – a story of a man who marries his imaginary friend and has an imaginary child with with his imaginary friend – on an August day in 2006. I was car-sharing with Caroline at the time. It was my turn to drive and as I pulled away from the house I remember saying, “It’s a bit autumnal today” …to which Caroline replied, “Who’s Mr Tumnal?” Seven years later, not only do I know all to well who Mr Tumnal is, I also know what happened to him.

998362_10151750092800630_1168085208_nMr Tumnal’s story fills three leather-wrap journals – that first on the bottom of the pile was a birthday present in 2009 and I can still remember the fear and trepidation with which I wrote the first words. There’s also a nervousness when writing in a new, beautiful, journal. What if I make a mistake and spoil the first page? I didn’t spoil the first page, and the story continued to come.

I’m pleased to have finished this story, but I fear that I am going to feel a bit bereft now that its done. This is silly really, as although I’ve finished the story, I’ve not really finished. I’ve got to reread it, redraft it, probably hate it for a time, leave it, come back to it, read it again and fall back in love with it, redraft it again, edit it, have it edited, and then, maybe, consider either getting it published or going again down the Indie route. Not really any reason to feel bereft…

Originally published at shepline: the journal“>shepline: the journal. You can comment here or

Stories that converge and cross like train lines

Stories that converge and cross like train lines

http://peppermintenergy.com/?nuf=wer-hat-erfahrungen-mit-anyoption&e37=c8 wer hat erfahrungen mit anyoption Trains-and-Lovers1Trains and Lovers by Alexander McCall Smith

I think everybody has met at least one person on a train and this is a story of four people who do just that; thrown together by chance and circumstance.

For myself I met Carole on a much-delayed cross-country train as we were both going home for the weekend (from different universities). We talked, made friends, swapped contact details and stayed in in contact. Every year we exchange Christmas cards and news; she has her life and I have mine. A story that uses this has its central conceit is not an original idea – one of my favourite films is Before Sunrise in which two characters doing just that – but it is a comforting one.

In this book you are presented with four very different versions of love in the four stories that Kay, Hugh, Andrew, and David tell each other. Or at least the versions of their “real” love stories that they choose to tell.

Stories that converge and cross like train lines

binäre optionen israel Trains-and-Lovers1Trains and Lovers by Alexander McCall Smith

I think everybody has met at least one person on a train and this is a story of four people who do just that; thrown together by chance and circumstance.

For myself I met Carole on a much-delayed cross-country train as we were both going home for the weekend (from different universities). We talked, made friends, swapped contact details and stayed in in contact. Every year we exchange Christmas cards and news; she has her life and I have mine. A story that uses this has its central conceit is not an original idea – one of my favourite films is Before Sunrise in which two characters doing just that – but it is a comforting one.

In this book you are presented with four very different versions of love in the four stories that Kay, Hugh, Andrew, and David tell each other. Or at least the versions of their “real” love stories that they choose to tell.

Originally published at shepline: the journal. You can comment here or there.

Through the eyes of a writer

Through the eyes of a writer

To round off my Easter weekend Emma and I went for a walk down by the canal in the Spring sunshine. Whilst we were putting out boots on, a car drew up and parked with a cat lounging in the sun on the parcel shelf. A man waiting in  car got out and went to retrieve the cat. First off he succeeded in letting the cat escape and  to pursue him across the country road but managed to catch him again and took him to his car. As we went off on walk we assumed they were swapping the cat over for some reason…

After we got back from our walk, whilst the man’s car was gone, the woman’s was still there: clearly they must have met there and gone off somewhere else together with cat.

Now, this is where my brain seems to differ from  norm. Whilst Emma looks at it as a sweet take of boyfriend and girlfriend meeting up but no it having anyone to look after the cat. What I see is two people having an affair, and the stories that the cat could tell. Further to this I see a novel, told through the eyes of the cat of two people and their illicit relationship….

Through the eyes of a writer

To round off my Easter weekend Emma and I went for a walk down by the canal in the Spring sunshine. Whilst we were putting out boots on, a car drew up and parked with a cat lounging in the sun on the parcel shelf. A man waiting in  car got out and went to retrieve the cat. First off he succeeded in letting the cat escape and  to pursue him across the country road but managed to catch him again and took him to his car. As we went off on walk we assumed they were swapping the cat over for some reason…

After we got back from our walk, whilst the man’s car was gone, the woman’s was still there: clearly they must have met there and gone off somewhere else together with cat.

Now, this is where my brain seems to differ from  norm. Whilst Emma looks at it as a sweet take of boyfriend and girlfriend meeting up but no it having anyone to look after the cat. What I see is two people having an affair, and the stories that the cat could tell. Further to this I see a novel, told through the eyes of the cat of two people and their illicit relationship….

Originally published at shepline: the journal. You can comment here or there.

Unfinished writing: the curse of the perfect Spring day

Today has been gorgeous in the extreme; cold but not freezing with the perfect light that only a Spring day can deliver. It’s been kind of day that makes you want to be alive. Of course it would been all the nice had I not had to have spent seven and a half hours of it in an office doing work. But no,this down-side is not course of which I have spoken…

The curse the perfect Spring day is that it inspires me to write. Why is that a curse? It’s a curse because what I find myself inspired to write is not Mr Tumnal’s story, but, as I drive through pretty Oxfordshire villages, brightened by snowdrops and the subtle sunlight on Cotswold stone, a revision of my late 90s story, Flyht. It’s a story set in 21st century Oxford and an island off the coast if Britain that still maintains a Recency way of life.

Clearly, after a decade of testing, I an not yet done with Flyht.

Unfinished writing: the curse of the perfect Spring day

Today has been gorgeous in the extreme; cold but not freezing with the perfect light that only a Spring day can deliver. It’s been kind of day that makes you want to be alive. Of course it would been all the nice had I not had to have spent seven and a half hours of it in an office doing work. But no,this down-side is not course of which I have spoken…

The curse the perfect Spring day is that it inspires me to write. Why is that a curse? It’s a curse because what I find myself inspired to write is not Mr Tumnal’s story, but, as I drive through pretty Oxfordshire villages, brightened by snowdrops and the subtle sunlight on Cotswold stone, a revision of my late 90s story, Flyht. It’s a story set in 21st century Oxford and an island off the coast if Britain that still maintains a Recency way of life.

Clearly, after a decade of testing, I an not yet done with Flyht.

Originally published at shepline: the journal