I had an early morning start, chopping garlic and ginger, adding spices, slowly layering up what would be a vegetable curry. With the warming aromas of cumin and coriander permeating through the house, I’m thinking of smells that diffuse back and forth across the boundary of fiction and non-fiction.
It starts with inspiration; a character, a setting, a theme. After that, pen and paper will suffice. My pen first hit the paper while I was in South Africa, a three year stint in the rainbow nation that followed a year in hot, arid Sudan. Sweeping deserts and lush green bushlands, after such stunning landscapes it wasn’t difficult to find inspiration for a whole new world. The land of Shendi was born, a land that would be the setting for my first novel.
I love the start of a new year, the promise of new things, feeling energised at the thought of making the most of the coming year. I don’t much go in for resolutions. I reflect back on the past twelve months and think what I can do to build on what went before; how I can improve, do better, move forward.
Reflecting on 2017 and one particular highlight springs to mind: Kate and I getting married in New York!!
As a kid it was a Saturday morning custom for my dad to take me and my sister to Holmfirth library. We browsed the shelves, selected a book, and took it home to devour. And there from a tender age our worlds opened up in those typed pages. Stories have always been a gift.
So I was visiting my mum a few weeks ago, and showed her some photos from a friend’s Facebook account.
‘Her photos are taking up all the space on your phone,’ she said, with a note of annoyance.
