I’ve always felt like a citizen of the world, now more than ever with the growing threat of coronavirus. In these strange times it’s not quite business as usual.
During lockdown, I am grateful that the weather is being kind, and feel lucky that we live where we do, just a stone’s throw away from the river Exe. Remembering all the things I am grateful for, a walk to the river is a regular feature of each day.
It’s been a busy few days, beginning on Saturday when I went along to Wincanton Book Festival. Reading an extract from Return of the Mantra, I chose the scene when Suni first meets a mysterious young boy who doesn’t speak. It reminded me of the tenderness that develops in this parent/child type relationship; a relationship that continues to grow in the sequel. Needless to say it was a lovely day promoting all things books, and as I chatted to interested people, I thought more about the complexities of my female protagonist, a girl who struggles to find her place in the world, who survives and adapts and learns to fight to save her homeland.
Following my last blog, The Human Condition, I was left thinking more about the ingredients that make life, and stories, interesting. The unexpected plot twist, the random event, stepping outside the familiar to embrace something new, to learn, to experience something fresh. It’s one of the reasons I like cities, or at least ones which ooze the diverse nature of humanity.
If a novel was good, would you care if it was created by Artificial Intelligence?
Inspired by an article in the Guardian, click here, this was a question posed a few weeks ago by Devon Book Club, a weekly forum on Twitter discussing all things books.
My response was one of resistance. My exact words were, ‘This is so inhuman it makes me shudder’.
Tuti Island
Two decades ago, or thereabouts, I was in the Sudan. Last year, after returning my revised manuscript to the publishers, I thought about a snippet from life in North Africa, and a place called Tuti Island. The snippet begins with a walk along the river Nile, where I spotted some boys tormenting a small turtle they had fished. Feeling sorry for the turtle, and possibly unwisely, I handed over a few Sudanese pounds in exchange for the turtle. I headed off down the river, intending to release it, but everywhere I went, the curious boys followed. Unable to find a quiet spot, I took the turtle home, filled the sink with water and stones, and fed it flakes of fish. It wasn’t ideal, but then I heard about Tuti Island, a nearby place which friends were sure would offer a quiet spot for releasing the turtle. So one day I put the turtle in my basket, caught a bus, then a boat, arriving at the small island situated where the White Nile and Blue Nile meet. I found a deserted strip of sand, placed my turtle in the water, and watched it swim to freedom.
I never forgot that island, or the colours and designs the Sudan inspired. And so my recent painting is titled ‘Tuti Island’.
Christmas and New Year have been a series of quiet reflections. Following a year of ill health and loss, it’s a comfort to slow things down, to take deliberate note of the small details, and breathe the fresh air. With its dark evenings, crisp air and sodden ground, winter feels like the perfect time to just take the time, to take stock, to gain a wider perspective, to remember that the moment is now to create what we choose.
As a writer who also indulges in painting, I am no stranger to the blank page, and the blank canvas. And yet perhaps it’s never really blank to start with. We create, and we recreate, capturing moments, thoughts and lives we’ve known and returning them to us in fresh new forms.
The last decade saw my first novel published, the new decade promises more. So much of Return of the Mantra was inspired by life in Africa: people, places, situations I had known, recreating the real into an almost unrecognisable fantasy. The Warder picks up the story ten years on, and by this time it really does have its own life and momentum. I was particularly encouraged to see a recent comment on Twitter from a reader, saying how much they loved the character, Wanda. He was inspired by orphaned children I had known, out of a desire to create an unlikely hero, a gifted young boy. In book 2, aged 18, Wanda takes a more prominent role. Together with his female counterparts they are exposed to a land beyond their shores, and so continues their journey in understanding that the world is not a dichotomy of black and white, good and evil. Rather, it is shades of grey, cause and effect, where personal growth and self-discovery are essential in realising the effect each character has. Not too unlike the real world.
And on that note I wish you a Happy New Year and a peaceful new decade.
So after what has proven to be a challenging year in more ways than one, it seems like a good idea to focus on the good news, and there is lots. Most recently my publisher has produced an updated front cover for Return of the Mantra, ready for reprint, to include the series titles – Blood Gift Chronicles Book One.
AND we’re ready to go with international distribution!! Click here
