I openly admit, that given the opportunity, I would be engrossed with writing 24/7. As some of you know I came to this art later in life and am now trying my hardest to make up for ‘lost’ time. At times I feel real panic that all the stories I want to write will not come to fruition. I’m not overly worried about all of them being published just simply written as a legacy. The notion of my words being shared after I leave this mortal coil appeals to me and I would hazard a guess to many writers.
To glance someone engrossed in reading our story is a true gift and a thrill. We have immersed them into a world of our creation. A friend of my daughter’s is currently reading, The Rython Kingdom and said she was gripped from the beginning – what more could an author want? It will be interesting to hear her review. Have your reviewers described your ‘world and characters’ as you see them or differently?
Obviously it is different when your story is a children’s picture book. With the help of an artist you have to make your mental images come to life on paper. I have experienced this with my monster story – Rumble’s First Scare. I received my most precious review for this book. See here: https://mandyevebarnett.com/2012/03/24/book-review-of-distinction-4/
Have any of your readers commented on a scene or character of yours and had either a similar or vastly different image to you and how you thought your readers would perceive them?
As I was searching for a suitable picture for this post, I came across many images of puppies, abandoned buildings, sad looking children, graveyards and distress in many forms. The word is a very powerful image maker but it seems to be out of fashion when it comes to its use now-a-days. We have all read the classics where a woman is described as forlorn when her love is not requited or lost. The imagery of her gradually failing and becoming waif like is very strong.
Such an emotive word should not, I feel, be lost to the language of story telling. Of course we can use other words, such as desolate, bereft, miserable, wretched and even forsaken, which is in decline as well, I believe but forlorn is the ‘king’. A puppies pleading eyes can only be forlorn.
Forlorn, gone is the love of my life, happiness is destroyed.
Forlorn, dominated by grief, tears flow and flow, will never stop.
Forlorn, deep pain rips everything deep inside me, it is excruciating.
Time passes, really too slowly.
Time shall heal wounds, heal pain.
Time may you tell me, is it almost time?
Time let me know, when I’m free again.
The hope, I carry with me.
The hope, each day a new attempt to live, to survive.
The hope, find peace with the pain.
The hope, to break free from the shackles, let go the old things, finally find new happiness.
Also as it is Sunday Snippets – I have included a short piece from the 18th century period of my novel, The Twesome Loop. Gabriella has found her husband’s brother to be truly understanding and her affections are clear. When her husband William decides his brother has over stayed his welcome :
“It is time you took your leave, my brother, you have dallied here far too long. I will purchase the villa in Agagni and want you to organise it on my behalf.”
“You may want to inspect the building and grounds before the purchase, William. May I suggest you travel to Italy to see the details are correct?”
“I am confident you will ensure all the details are correctly documented, Arthur. I have organised a carriage to take you to Dover in the morning.”
Gabriella’s dismay must have shown on her face.
“Are you sorry to see my brother leave, my sweet?”
“I am – he has been good company these past few weeks. The tales of his travels have been most entertaining.”
“Well, you shall be travelling with me in a few months time to my new property in Italy.”
“I look forward to seeing Italy; from what Arthur has told me, it is very beautiful.”
The evening seemed to draw out for hours before William finally left for his room.
“Please do not leave me here with him, Arthur. He will surely subject me to his lusts once you are gone.”
This blog subject started as a ‘tweet’ back in October, I had not thought about exploring it until one of my followers – Melissa McPhail replied with ‘I love that idea, Mandy! Do you expound on it in a blog anywhere?’ To be honest I meant to get to it much sooner than this but as we all know life has a habit of throwing stuff at us and changing our direction. So on this Christmas Eve with a little time on my hands – at last – I will expound as Melissa kindly asked.
Firstly, I looked at what the definition of fantasy was:
The faculty or activity of imaging things that are, impossible or improbable.
The creative imagination; unrestrained fancy.
A capricious or fantastic idea.
Fiction characterized by highly fanciful or supernatural elements.
Each of these definitions gives us the perceived idea of fantasy in a nicely tailored clarification putting it into a neat genre box. However, I have a personal interpretation one that looks deeper than the surface and trite pigeon holed explanations.
I believe that fantasy is our alter ego expanding our consciousness.
Just think of your dreams – they are fantastical in nature with obscure meanings and imagery. We have tried for decades to interpret them and give them meaning. Every vision has been given a ‘symbolic’ implication or significance in an attempt to harness them into something easier to understand, but what if these visions are something else entirely? What if it is another part of ourselves struggling to be acknowledged, a part of us that uses our subconscious mind to explore beyond the normal daily perceptions?
There are numerous theories about spiritual memory, trace elements of ancient wisdom and reincarnation and all of them are fascinating. What links them together though? All of them are the result of a deep seated belief that there is something more within us. There are few of us who can say ‘what you see is what I am through and through’ because we all have an alter ego. As humans we are subjected to pigeon holing ourselves – parent, manual laborer, manager or celebrity – the list is long. But the ‘badge’ does not define the whole person. You will have come across people in your lifetime, who have surprised you with an aspect of their personality, which was totally astonishing. A case in point, a surgeon I knew. He was a huge man with massive hands but his surgical technique was excellent. He came to visit me after my operation and watched in total fascination as I carefully French knitted with an old cotton reel. He asked if he could have a go…yes I was shocked but I let him. As he looped the wool over the pins he told me he would have to get one, it was so much better than his normal knitting or crochet. He explained that the intricate movements helped keep his fingers nimble. To look at this man crochet would have been the furthest image of him you could imagine.
All of us are multi-faceted not just with the experiences our lives have given us and the roads we have followed but also another part hidden deep within us. The only way I can describe it is, as if we all have an inner twin, one that wants to be heard, and one that can enrich our lives if we let it. There is so much to imagine and experience so let your ‘twin’ loose. Imagination doesn’t have to be only a child’s prerogative. There are depths within us all that truly can expand our consciousness.
This quote by Albert Einstein give us food for thought: ‘When I examine myself and my methods of thought, I come to the conclusion that the gift of fantasy has meant more to me than any talent for abstract, positive thinking.” If such a great man can see the advantages of fantasy shouldn’t we?