Tag: books

The Art of Visual Narrative

A break in the rain sees a burst of crisp autumn sun and the promise of colder times to come, perfect for getting lost in my WIP, Book 3 of Blood Gift Chronicles, adding layers to an expanding world, and (currently) spending time with a character who’s a true survivor and an inspiration – it feels like weaving magic.

But for now, following a breath of fresh air, time to ponder the subject of visual writing, as promised in my last blog. It’s a subject that came up in a panel topic I took part in in August, at Worldcon 2024 in Glasgow, and was of particular interest for me to consider alongside also being an artist: visual imagery and colour are important to me, as well as the process of telling stories through various mediums including narrative, art and poetry.

But to start, what do we mean by visual writing?

Put simply, visual writing brings narrative to life in a way that forges connections with the reader, evoking an emotional and visual response that triggers a mental image in the mind of the reader. There are various aspects to consider, including characterisation.

Believable characters are the heart of the story, through which readers connect with both the story and the author. We need characters that readers can connect to, characters that inspire, intrigue, excite or frighten, or that we can empathise with and relate to. We need them to leap off the page, and so as writers we need to know them, their history and backstory, their strengths and flaws, what motivates them, what challenges them, how they express themselves. Social context and power structures inform how characters move through the world and what freedoms they have. Someone in a high ranking position might have freedom to speak up, someone in a low ranking position might have to stay silent. In my novels I have a character who’s impulsive and overconfident to the point of being reckless; a character who is misunderstood, powerful, burdened, and courageous; a character filled with self-doubt who evolves into a steady leader; a character whose inner struggles go unnoticed and it almost costs him his life.

I reveal the internal worlds and emotional landscapes, highlighting what is at stake within the drama. The psychological dimension is a hook for the reader, while taking care to describe just enough to maintain pace. At the beginning of The Warder (Blood Gift Chronicles Book 2), an early scene involves a girl who sees a dragon in the mountains, and consequently sees and feels herself burning in its fire. And then she realises that there is no dragon. Another character sees her appearing crazed. I allow the reader space to reflect on the girl’s traumatic confusion, and what the consequences might be, rather than attempting to over-describe and explain, which would have unnecessarily slowed the pace.

And lastly, the environment. Within my fantasy series, I move through mystical deserts, rugged mountains, lush forests, and I’m careful to describe just enough to support the scene from the viewpoint of the character in the scene. I have a character who is intimately connected with animals, and so sees the world around him through his connection with wildlife. I have characters who see things in shadows, and so their perspective has another dimension to focus on, and a whole different mood. I have a character who’s very connected to her ancestors, and so looks for experiences they may have had. And a character in book 3 that I’m still working on, and we’re moving into the realms of shapeshifting, which completely alters the perspective. Each environment, scene, and character have their own mood, colour palette and tone, (maybe it’s the artist in me). It’s interesting to switch between contrasting scenes, switching colour and mood in a way that livens up the narrative, bringing it to life for the reader. Overall, as readers, what we find visually and emotionally evocative will differ, and what is mentally thought-provoking will be dependent on our interests.

And so, I will leave you with just a few recommendations that I found visually and emotionally evocative, memorable stories that left that all important lasting impact.

What are you reading?

Worldcon 2024

At last, time to sit back and reflect on a very special trip in August, all the way to Glasgow 2024, A Worldcon for Our Futures. This was the 82nd World Science Fiction Convention brought to Scotland, and what an inspiring few days it was.

Worlds within worlds took shape in imaginative architecture nestled alongside the river Clyde, a wonderful place to take a break and reflect, with time enough for a stroll downstream and castaway on the Tall Ship, Glenlee, delving into the truly extraordinary stories of life on board sea voyages not for the faint-hearted. Research comes in many forms for writers, and immersed in the ship’s atmosphere, I let my imagination wander to an incredible journey one character of mine is forced to make. But my work-in-progress novel is another story.

 

 

Back to the convention and it was great to catch up with familiar faces, meet new people, and take part in panel discussions examining the length and breadth of these fascinating genres.

It was a pleasure exploring the connection between being an artist and a storyteller, discussing the process of being a visual writer and storytelling artist, and how the visual, and narrative, blend into a similar space, all through interwoven creative mediums. Surrounded by so much colour, there was a lot to inspire.

More on visual writing another time, but one very special guest of honour, a current favourite author of mine, Nnedi Okorafor, is a writer whose work I find particularly visual – colourful, striking and memorable. It was a wonderful opportunity to see her interviewed in person, to put a face to words I have poured over. A pioneer in many ways, her personal story is inspiring, as is all she continues to achieve through her work, a woman who stayed true to herself and her convictions, who defied genre (or at least white-centric, first world genre norms), and in doing so, we are treated with Africanfuturism and Africanjujuism. I find her work to be unapologetic, strong, colourful and pushing boundaries in exploring a vibrant world.

Another panel I had the pleasure of joining explored diversity of a different kind, from queer triumphs to utopias and everything in-between. It’s a wonderfully explorative theme to consider, stories where marginalised people are being framed as the hero, getting to the heart of identity through looking closely at a character’s intersections, glancing back at history to support understanding, as well as imagining anew. Considering the interplay between stories and the real world, how one influences the other and vice versa, we need those new imaginings, and as a writer I work alongside my characters to see their hopes realised. Themes of identity, self-determination and empowerment feature in my work, since I find that conceptualising hope stems from steps taken towards our own authentic standing in the world. From awareness of our identity, we invest in contributing to others being able to flourish, including the natural world since our futures are entwined; we are a part of nature. It’s a familiar journey for me, one that my characters walk, as they explore collaboration, connectivity and shared values.

The dealers room was a joy. It was great to see piles of the British Science Fiction Association’s Magazine, Focus, where a recent article of mine is published, entitled Breaking Binaries of Good versus Bad in SFF.

 

And of course it was a wonderful chance to catch up with my publishers, the lovely folks of Stairwell Books, as well as pick up a few titles to come home with for my ever-expanding to-read pile.

And so to end with a question: what are you reading?

For the Love of Books #31

It continues to be a turbulent start to spring. In this moment, the birds are singing and a black cat sits poised on a tin garage roof, shaded by a flowering dogwood tree, but the moment is unlikely to last. With mixed forecasts always on the horizon, unpredictable is the word of the day. The idea of shifting sands, searching for reliable ground only to discover we have no control, the knowledge that we are specks in a vast universe, while the universe exists inside of us, the internal and the existential co-existing… themes at home in a good ghost story, or two. And to that end, I bring two recommendations…

Threading the Labyrinth, by Tiffani Angus

Toni, an American arts dealer and owner of a failing gallery, is unexpectedly called to Hertfordshire after inheriting a Manor House. Leaving the New Mexico desert behind, she discovers her inheritance is a crumbling building and overgrown garden, and aptly names it the remains. The gardens change in twilight, revealing ghosts of the past. Toni soon becomes immersed in the history of the place, drawn in by an unexpected hand and her own curiosity. And so begins Threading the Labyrinth, which really is the perfect title.

The writing offers an immersive experience, as the richness of the gardens are vividly described from the perspectives of past and present. At times, reading the story felt akin to walking through an actual garden, where your thoughts drift and your eye wanders, drawn into the depth and detail of mature foliage, and the feeling that work is never done in a living space. For a while I felt I was losing the thread of the story, since more time is given to the voice of the past than to the present, and struggled with my expectations of Toni being the main character. Until I realised that, for me at least, the main character was in fact the garden itself, brought to life by everyone who has been a part of it. I suspect my experience as a reader was not dissimilar to that of Toni’s experience:

‘It’s in the shadows that you find the shape of things.’

Once I let go of my expectations and accepted the coexistence of past and present, I greatly enjoyed this atmospheric, haunting and layered read.

The Telling, by Jo Baker

Rachel arrives at Storrs Hall, her late mother’s isolated country cottage. While packing up the house, painful memories of loss and grief are exposed, as well as the unsettling feeling of a presence in the house. Generations earlier, a young housemaid, Lizzy, called the same dwelling home. So begins the intertwining tale of two women, both struggling against conforming to duty.

 Written with a thin veil between life and death, the past and the present, the narrative is subtle, and begins with Rachel’s haunting experiences that are all too relatable. Those moments that are hard to define, that make us wonder whether they did in fact happen at all: a blur in the corner of your eye, strange humming that could surely just be faulty wiring; unease that has Rachel questioning her lucidity as it draws on her own complex emotions about grief, partnership and motherhood. But with the help of a neighbour, a previous owner and a local historian, Rachel pieces together the house that was a labourer’s cottage, part of the Storrs estate.

Lizzy’s story opens up as a parallel narrative, that reads like historical fiction, delving deep into the experiences of a young working-class woman growing up in the mid-1800s. She works in the house of Reverend and Mrs Wolfenden, who ask about Lizzy’s family lodger, Mr Moore. They request Lizzy spy on her lodger and report back to them. Mr Moore is an intriguing character, with an identity as an agitator and a democrat, against a backdrop of a roomful of books from Shakespeare to Robinson Crusoe. The relationship that forms between Lizzy and Mr Moore is complex, highlighting the vulnerability of Lizzy’s adolescence in relation to an older man, and depicting the intersectionality of gender and class oppression. She is a woman with few choices, torn between a relationship of clumsy beginnings with an older man, versus the man she is supposed to marry. The story also highlights the impacts of the Chartist Movement of the time, which added interest to the narrative.

With well-drawn characterisation, centred around an intriguing property, this made for an interesting blend of history amidst an unsettling haunting.

What are you reading?

For the Love of Books #30

Approaching the end of February and taking a break from the UK rain, with a feast of worldbuilding in two epic fantasy recommendations… Enjoy.

The Wolf and the Water; by Josie Jaffrey

Big things come in small packages: an apt phrase for this modest-sized book that contains a world of extraordinary depth.

If you like detailed worlds, family sagas, crime, intrigue, and a protagonist to champion, then this is for you. I was rooting for the protagonist from the start, a young woman called Kala, considered doubly sullied by the powers that be: once for her father’s foreign birth, once by her disease that left her crippled. She is heir to the tribe of Glauks, in the city of Kepos, a walled city that borders the sea. Unknown to Kala there is a second, secret sea, and a forbidden pool where she goes to swim and feel free from the pains in her body.

When her father unexpectedly dies, everything changes. Kala’s mother must remarry, and proceedings are put in motion for marriage to a man, Nikos; a dangerous man not to be trusted. Left trying to find a place for herself in a newly ordered world, Kala looks for allies she can trust: Melissa, a girl brought to her as a companion, someone she grew up with and is close to; and Leon, Nikos’ son. Characterisation includes a complex love triangle further demonstrating Kala’s uniqueness and individuality.

Kala suspects poison was the weapon used to kill her father, and she vows to do whatever she must to determine the truth. It is a plight which takes her deep into the heart of this dangerous world built on complex tribal politics, headed by the Archon and a priesthood of hierophants. Forced to question her own foundations, there is self-discovery and family revelations, and a journey through this world and beyond, to ‘the edge of shadows’, the wall, warded by Acolytes to keep the dead where they belong.

“I think if I could just push my fingertips through the centre of my chest, I could pull my rib cage open like wings and let it all fly out of me.”

The narrative is as sharp as cut glass, appropriate for a story that demands attention. Based on a world inspired by Plato’s account of the island of Atlantis, prepare for a complex society, with dynamics and entanglements of a broad cast. This is the story of Kala, and her fight for the truth: who killed her father and why?

The Unspoken Name; by A.K. Larkwood

The Shrine of the Unspoken One is cut into the mountainside, looking out over the House of Silence nestled into the valley. There, fourteen-year-old Csorwe is raised to be the chosen bride, an innocent vessel through which the voice of the God can speak.

I loved the opening to this epic fantasy, which reminded me of Le Guin’s Tombs of Atuan, with its edgy, sinister world holding a girl hostage to a tragic fate. In The Unspoken Name, the story explores the spiritual and cultural depth controlling Csorwe’s life in the House of Silence, as she awaits a tragic fate: the day she will sacrifice herself at the Unspoken One’s shrine. But a month before that day, a stranger arrives seeking counsel for his quest: where is the Reliquary of Pentravesse?

According to the library of the House of Silence, it is an inadvisable quest, with all manner of ill consequences following in its wake. But the wizard Belthandros Sethennai finds the idea irresistible and prepares to head out. Although he will not go alone. On the day of Csorwe’s sacrifice, he waits in the shadows, tempting her to leave with him, and live. As he says, “The secret of greatness, is to know when you should risk the wrath of God.”  

So begins an unlikely adventure of a runaway and her new master, through inventive worlds delivered with magical description that brings to life an imaginative feast of worldbuilding, with vibrancy and colour supported by a wonderfully diverse cast. Csorwe is at the heart, on a journey of survival and self-discovery, adapting to her changing circumstances, transforming into a heroine of the free world.

What are you reading?

 

Stories Stories Everywhere

Comic Con, the perfect excuse for dipping into Somerset in February. As expected, it was a perfectly eclectic and colourful day. The fun at these events is infectious, and it’s inspiring to see stories embraced so whole-heartedly. And it was wonderful to be there with my fantasy series, Blood Gift Chronicles. As I meet new readers, it’s always a thrill to wonder what people will make of the stories, what parts might reach them and linger, which scenes will prove memorable. I’m also always happy to have my own character art with me on the journey, emboldening answers to what the stories are about – it is their story after all.

And of course, while in Somerset, why not take a trip to Wells Cathedral, which soared beyond expectation with its voluminous chambers and endless passageways. The outer walls encased in a stone labyrinth, are alive with flocks of roosting pigeons among other birds. Inside, stories upon stories unfold, of history, and of imagined possibility in this magical place. It is home to the second oldest clock in the world, which has the oldest working clock face in the world, which is a beautiful piece of art in its own right. To add further interest, we stumbled on an art exhibit, where old meets new in reconstructed wedding dresses raising money for local charities. Spying a rainbow flag in amongst the gowns was a bonus. And to top off a glorious visit, meet Basil the cat, who happily takes up residence in the gift shop, whenever he chooses.

To end the day, storybook scenes continue at nearby Bishop’s Palace, with a flagstone drawbridge and surrounding moat, where for centuries, swans have been trained to ring the bell at dinnertime…

And I’ll leave you with a story of a different kind, told in a memorable sculpture found at The Box, in Plymouth. The sculpture is entitled, ‘End of Empire’, depicting two figures with globe heads on a steam-punk seesaw in a symbol of Victorian industrialism. It’s fascinating to watch the slow-swinging seesaw, in a movement symbolising a rebalancing and move towards end of empire.

Ah, the power of stories… xx

 

Shades of Inspiration

It’s been a busy start to the year. Approaching the end of January and I wonder where the month has gone. Manuscript edits are under way, and I’m enjoying time spent with my characters in a world that grows more colourful, and more daring with each scene. And my collection of shorts and poetry is also growing; it’s wonderful to get out and about sharing words.

As always, January is the time for making plans, signing up, and getting dates in the diary. The excitement of the year is WorldCon coming to the UK. Plans are underway for the trip to Glasgow, with the added bonus of the guest of honour who just happens to be one of my favourite authors… guess who…

‘People get inspired to write, paint, draw, sing, sculpt, dance in many different ways. And there are many types of art. But the one thing that they all have in common is that they are all a sort of magic. Sometimes the magic flows from one’s fingers, other times it is transferred to the person who experiences the result. Magic has always worked in mysterious ways.’ – Nnedi Okorafor.

And a recent book-haul is just waiting to be devoured.

Inspiration comes in many forms, and I’m lucky to have so much around to inspire. A recent trip to the Pulp Exhibit in Bovey Tracey was a glorious injection of colour on a cold afternoon, and an interesting look at the interface between art, the environment and how we question the world. The sculptures are made from recycled cardboard and it’s the second time for me viewing this artist’s work. James Lake, it won’t be the last.

My own art project is underway, inspired by local Devon and Cornwall surrounds – more at a later date. And I continue to venture out and about, soaking up scenery that one way or another finds its way into writing.

From big skies over the Teign valley, watched over by Castle Drogo…

To waterwheels, ancient bridges, giant oaks and winter snowdrops, lining the River Bovey.

Close encounters with the outdoors, spying the layers of nature and colour making up the scenic tapestry, is the best inspiration for building worlds. And that’s where I’ll leave you for today, while I travel through the pages of my latest instalment of Blood Gift Chronicles. There may not be snowdrops, but there is yellow gorse and purple heather, and natural extracts to ward off the curse of the evil eye…

Have a great week!

Happy New Year 2024!

As New Year’s Eve turns dark outside, the storm is raging. Batten down the hatches, grateful for a moment of peace to reflect on the year gone by. 2023 has been a busy year for writing, starting with a chance to guest blog with the esteemed fantasy author, Sarah Ash. It’s the second time I’ve been lucky enough to be invited, and for anyone who has yet to read from this author, I can highly recommend visiting her many titles. Songspinners, has been one of my favourite reads of the year: the intriguing tale of Orial, a girl navigating the labyrinth of the Undercity to practice the art she has taught herself, the art of music that is her magic; in a world that is dark, evocative and beautifully drawn, a place of musical telepathy, faeries, dragonflies, and mystical reservoirs await…

Book conventions and festivals from Birmingham to the New Forest, to the Hartland Peninsula of Devon, to the city of Kansas, USA via the wonders of zoom from my writing room were all highlights. With readings and panels, it is wonderful to share, to discuss, to learn, to inspire, and be inspired. And there are lots more creative ventures to look forward to in 2024. I look forward to sharing more as news unfolds.

For now, in the lull between Xmas and New Year, in between blustering gales and rain, it was lovely to catch a few snatches of dry clear skies to enjoy a moment of the outdoors around home, and nature, for a breath of fresh air before it’s back to work. Between the lakes of Stover, with afternoon sun, fluffy clouds, scenic forest, gorgeous lakes, poetry, wood carvings, curious squirrels, hungry ducks, and a woodpecker…

 

To the fresh sea air of South Devon, and Teignmouth’s old port, and beaches crammed with colourful boats with stories to tell…

To the bright lights of Torquay to feast on this year’s bay of lights, where more wild seas await, crashing to and fro towards Xmas trees and festive Torbay palms looking especially jazzy.

And back home, where a sleepy cat awaits, and another good read beckons.

Wishing everyone a happy, healthy, peaceful New Year, 2024!

 

For the Love of Books #28

The last day of November, and we wake to a fine drizzle of snow. I imagine it will be fleeting, but it’s cold, and the perfect time to cosy up with a good read. I have two titles, inspired by the atmosphere that snow, mist, winter weather can bring. I’m not thinking jolly season’s greetings, more like the bleak atmosphere of separation, and unease. I’m late for Halloween, but the first title brings a malevolent spirit into a snowy scape…

Dark Matter: A Ghost Story; by Michelle Paver

Jack Miller never intended to join the Arctic mission, but despite himself he heads to the islands halfway between Norway and the Pole. The expedition team are to study Arctic Biology and ice dynamics, and carry out a meteorological survey. It’s a mission meant to last a year, but the Arctic wilderness has a dark history. Stories told from the time when the Arctic islands became part of Norway in 1925, tell of lethal accidents and marauding bears, men going mad from the dark and loneliness, shooting themselves, walking off cliffs for no reason. One expedition group in the early days refused to leave their cabin, out of terror of the deadness beyond, a terror reportedly not rooted in some phobic disorder. Now, the terrifying events in Gruhuken are about to be relived, and recorded in Jack’s diary, beginning 7th January 1937.

A malevolent spirit walks this icy wilderness, and the bleak surrounds provide a perfect backdrop. It’s easy to feel like prey in the face of polar bears with dirty brown pelts stained by blood and blubber, but not so easy to shake the feeling of being hunted. Dining on reindeer and an eclectic mix of tinned food, offers little comfort, and after a series of events, Jack finds himself alone except for the huskies. The rising feel of impending doom is well drawn, subtle and engaging in a foreboding environment, and Jack is soon left to consider whether writing will exorcise his demons, or whether speaking about it will just invoke them?  Either way, the spirit wants Gruhuken, and Jack Miller is standing in its way.

Central to the story is the question: Is it the dark people fear, or what lurks in it? It’s a question which drives the narrative, bringing an intriguing balance of unsettling apprehension, fated unease, and a lingering dread, teasing, tangible, yet never quite in reach.

The Fox; by Solveig Palsdottir

What do you do when your arrival means the world, when your presence is so symbolic, you simply must not leave?

Guogeir Fransson, hoping to put professional tragedy and personal turmoil behind him, leaves the Reykjavik police force for a dead end job in a small town in eastern Iceland. His detective instincts are triggered when a foreign woman arrives into this tight-knit community, and suddenly disappears soon after. The trail takes him to a remote farmhouse where an elderly woman and her son live with a sinister past.

Sajee, from Sri Lanka, arrives in Hofn to take up work in her aunt’s beauty salon. But it seems the job does not exist. Help from a friendly stranger takes her to the farm of Selma and her son, Isak. They offer board, lodgings and the promise of pay for cleaning and help around the place. It seems like a practical solution to Sajee’s problem, but it is an offer wrapped in mystery. Sajee’s vulnerability is clear. From Sri Lanka’s chaotic district of Colombo, growing up she was left alone with a violent father, finding sanctuary at the local beauty shop among cheerful women, until the shop was forced to close. Postcards from her aunt, who had travelled to Iceland before her, were the hope she had clung to. Now she was alone and illiterate in a strange land. And Selma’s eyes were watching, too closely. What familiarity did she see in the young woman that drew her so tightly? Was it Sajee’s cleft lip that she discretely attempted to conceal? Was it illusion?

The characters were well-drawn and entirely believable. The backdrop to the story is cloaked in mystery and folklore that I found completely compelling. The dead are in the family plot, but the hidden people, tall, dignified, with unlimited senses and a higher consciousness dwell in mountain cliffs. They help people in trouble, spirit problems away, but when wronged, revenge is bitter. Victims have been known to go up in a puff of smoke, or be driven mad. The farm skirts a harbour town where shipwrecks mean people are forced to watch husbands and brothers drown, a place of depression and alcoholism, where people go off the rails. As the layers of mystery unfold, I was absorbed by the world and the unexpected, unfurling of sinister events. A read made more chilling by its relatability, as we are taken down the path of unwittingly losing power; how our own insecurities can trap us, how trust can be fatal.

What are you reading?

 

Reach of Fantasy

Starting the day with thoughts of turbulence. Mid-August and it’s blustery out there, grey, drizzly, a far cry from summer, and a world away from the heat wave of last year. It feels like a bizarre contradiction to the devasting heat and wildfires that have ravaged so many places around the world with an ever-continuing climate crisis. Plus the thought that life is unpredictable, and so we move, alter course, expand, hopefully – themes shared in recent poetry, and in art. And they are themes that are blossoming, mushrooming, expanding in my current work-in-progress novel, Blood Gift Chronicles Book 3. Since Book 2 I have allowed myself the time to pause, to take a breath, to see the way for characters old and new, and they spoke back. I’m listening, allowing them their rightful space, their authenticity, their power and potential. Spanning both time and space, their journeys are huge, but human.

Fantasy takes us on a flight,

Fantasy allows us to ground,

Fantasy gives us space to grow,

Fantasy reveals colour tone.

As the writer I was waiting for that deeper shade, that revealing essence. Once found, the words flow. Until the unpredictability of life calls for a pause. This week the garden was calling, or more specifically a bench, and so I’ve been elbow deep in DIY. Monday is just around the corner, and a woman called Ze awaits, for me to write her through the next phase. (Smile.) Her journey is complex, universal. But the higher the mountain we climb, the further we can see. Or at least it’s true for Ze, since she has lived, loved, and lost. And when everything is lost, there is everything to gain…

On a personal note, an ability to expand can involve changing your mind. And I recently changed my mind about a thought I was holding onto, the thought that a book is best read direct from pages held in your hands. And while I still think this is true, especially for a writer who works on screen, there are definite benefits to ebooks and so I relented. Now I’m excited to think that if ever I’m away, I will have a library with me, and for titles only published as ebooks, they will no longer be out of my reach.

My current read is The Book of Yokai: Mysterious creatures of Japanese Folklore. Mysterious sounds… something watching in the dark… creatures from the in between… – stuff that might keep you up at night, or in Mia’s case, lull you to sleep…

Have a great weekend!

Eastercon 2023

Reflections of a busy weekend in Birmingham for this year’s Eastercon, an annual convention of all things sci-fi, fantasy and horror. It was great to be there in person, representing Blood Gift Chronicles with readings from The Warder.

And it was a great chance to catch up with my publishers, Stairwell Books, at home with a fabulous book table in the dealer’s room.

As a writer/reader/watcher of these genres, the fact that I love them goes without saying. But it’s conventions like these that give you the deep dive into a world that knows no bounds, and demands that you look harder, root further, for all we bring as writers, and for all we celebrate as readers. I took part in many great panels, which in themselves is revealing, including topics around feminism, LGBTQ+, young adult, older protagonists, and cats – which proved popular for a nation of cat lovers!!! Plus it was great to meet new people, talk with readers, share ideas, support and encouragement, and be inspired by possibility.

It is always interesting to reflect on the power of representation and its role in fuelling liberation, on a personal level with the potential to translating into wider society. Empowered people seek liberation. And then, while standing on the shoulders of giants, (thank you Ursula Le Guin and Octavia Butler, among others) we imagine anew and expand on ideas of possibility. As far as the environment goes, it has never been more urgently needed. Whilst I may expand on some ideas in future blogs, for now, a special mention to the ever-growing young adult market, a genre for all ages, with enormous range, scope and potential. Personally, as far as politics goes, the future depends on young people, as well as an open line of communication across generations. And what better way to share than through stories.

“We live in capitalism. Its power seems inescapable. So did the divine right of kings. Any human power can be resisted and changed by human beings. Resistance and change often begins in art, and very often in our art, the art of words.” Ursula K. LeGuin

Speaking of the environment, it was a breath of fresh air to appreciate a big pocket of wilding among the urban, from Canada geese at the NEC, to promising bat boxes. And a special injection of art, with lilies on the water, and a sculpture entitled ‘Beyond All Limits’ by Luke Burton, specially commissioned to commemorate the London 2012 Olympics and Paralympics, and dedicated to Help for Heroes.

 

 On a different note, it was a special someone’s birthday on Monday, and since we were in Birmingham, what better way to celebrate than a visit to Cadbury’s World, followed by dinner at TJI Fridays…

Goodnight Birmingham…xxx