For many people, a statement like that might be a good enough signal to others to call the professionals in to sort me out. For me, though, it is normal. It’s as sure as sign as anything that another story is about to break out and demand to be written.  Curiously it is a year too the day that the story first seeded itself.  Emma and I were driving the south coast of Iceland on our return to Reykjavik, through the flat plains of moss-covers lava fields, a fine, continual drizzle on the Jeep windscreen, and a playlist of Múm and Sigur Rós on the crackling radio… the stories began to emerge…

10151188990390630Over the last week those choices have been making themselves heard again. I previously said that it is a follow-up rather than a sequel to, The End Of All Worlds, and that is still true.  Whilst I have a car of characters – some who you know and some who you don’t – and a series of smaller companion stories, and an idea of the offer -arching big idea, the main plot is still somewhat of a mystery. What I do know is that I am to find that plot in a myth, it legend…. or a s as fa. To this end I have started to read Penquin’s seminal 700+ page collection of the Idemand sagas. I have tried to read this, on and off, for over a decade, and this time I am determined to succeed. If only is I can decide with the knowledge of having read them that I must rely on my own imagination.