Tag: Nature

The Magic of Writing

I am caught in the magic of creating, and the wheels are turning. Among the day-to-day, and the necessary considerations of balance, projects are moving forward, points of fruition are on the horizon, and I am enraptured by the process. One such project is the third instalment of my fantasy project Blood Gift Chronicles, COMING SOON. I took the necessary time, allowed the ideas to percolate, the characters to mature, and now the end is in sight. I am excited. And I am excited to reveal more surprises that I’ve been working on for the series. Soon.

Working in fantasy, magic is a running theme. Where some consider magic to be associated with powers that do not occur in the natural world, in my work I look for the magic to feel like extensions of the natural world. It maintains an organic feel, drawing on ethereal spaces, dreams and the spirit world, and the power of words. It is also a world I created, and so the rules of what I consider to be natural are something I can play with: the magic can be big, and explosive, shape-shifting and extraordinary, while not losing touch with the quiet natural order that the characters are steadfastly working to return to. Because nature itself is magic, a place from which to be inspired, and a place to return to.

There is magic that is passed down in bloodlines, magic that is performed as ritual, both in groups and individually, magic used to change form, to communicate, to forge connection through the ages. There is magic that is enabled through powerful amulets, and magic that is driven through belief and emotion. I think fondly of the character Suni in Return of the Mantra, facing tragedy, being cast out alone into a dangerous world, feeling the weight of responsibility as she must feel her way against the odds, to survive, and to realise and accept that she is gifted. She is a dreamwalker, a gift that remains and establishes itself through the series, fostering connection with those she loves and in particular with a young friend who she watches over.

To better explain, I’ll hand you over to Suni. The following is an extract from The Warder, when we first meet Suni again, ten years later from when we left her at the end of Return of the Mantra. Enjoy…

THE WARDER

Chapter Ten – EXTRACT

MY MOTHER HAD BEEN A dreamwalker, a gift passed from mother to daughter. We were separated for years before she died, but she had always been able to reach me in my dreams. It was only after she died, ten years ago, that I realised the gift had found its way to me.

I see the mists of Serafay at the edge of my dreams, mists only the dead or a dreamwalker can know. How to navigate the mists is still a mystery even to me; it just is. Sometimes I think the destination lies rooted in desire. My mother had missed me, worried for me, a longing that had led her to me. My own nightly ventures took me to the dreams of my young friend, Wanda; a gifted boy I had known since he was an infant. Ours was a bond formed during an extraordinary journey we had once shared.

Much had changed since then, and the distance between us meant I couldn’t visit often. A boy gifted to speak the tongues of animals, he lived among wildlife in the valley beyond the mountains, while I had returned to my coastal hometown. I thought of him often, worried about him. I was aware that his relationship with Ntombi, my old friend, was not as it should be. I was thankful for my gift, reassured by my visits into his dreams.

ONE NIGHT I CLOSED MY eyes and drifted from the waking world, descending into sleep. Random colours and images of everyday life came and went, but I drifted on through until the colours drained to grey, and I was standing before the wall of mist. I stepped in, abandoning caution, and surrendered to my gift.

In the thick grey haze, the air was still and cool. I walked blind, deeper into the mist where ghosts crossed my path. They appeared oblivious to me, sometimes walking straight through me, leaving the cold of their presence lingering on my skin. Whilst my mother was at peace, ghosts aimlessly wandering Serafay had mournful, despairing eyes.

I felt a change in the air; a slight breeze brushed against my hand. I held out my hands, finding the direction, and turned to walk into the breeze. It was always the same, the mist showing me the way. The breeze grew stronger the further I went into the tunnel of moving air that was hidden from the dead. Among the swirling tones of grey, a window of colour appeared up ahead. I walked towards it, unsure of where it would lead. The only certainty was the dreamer; it was always Wanda I came to when I walked out of Serafay.

I stepped out of Serafay to find myself in Juna’s cave. Wanda was there, his back to me, sitting with legs dangling over the overhanging shelf, head cocked as he looked out over the grasslands. I stepped around the burnt-out fire and went to him. The sun was shining down as I stood next to him on the ledge, but the cold of Serafay lingered.

I crouched down and looked at his face. He never saw or heard me in the dream world. Sometimes I’d see him appear unresponsive to anything as he gazed intensely into space. This time was different; only the whites of his eyes were showing. I put a hand on his arm, reassured by the warmth of his body that felt like a shock against the cold of mine, and looked out across the landscape. Where are you? Startled by a shrill call overhead, I glimpsed a circling hawk, before Serafay came to claim me.

Happy New Year 2026!

As 2025 draws to a close, cold winter months provide the perfect setting for those moments of reflection. It’s crisp and cold out there, but look closer and you will find nature’s treasures, offering a sturdy base for sure footing.

And so I’m listening to the Japanese paper bush with its bare branches and snow white winter blooms; and the climbing jasmine, flowering its yellow stars; to the growing hebes, sporting purples and silvers all year round; and the star magnolia tipped with soft furry buds; to the sleeping hydrangeas and cherry blossom, restful and brown; and the honeysuckle giant, splaying and pluming with bulging red berries, welcoming birds far and wide; to the hellebores, tipped with white bells that might just faintly chime; and the visiting birds, filling their bellies and gathering for nests; while the hedgehog sleeps sound.

And by the water, time to reflect, at riversides and seasides where flocking geese arrive for warmer climes.

As a writer, I journey alongside a number of creative pathways, including the unfolding world of Blood Gift Chronicles. It has been a year of creative output, of journeying, of sharing, and there are some wonderful highlights. I’m hugely grateful for all those I’ve met along the way; fellow writers, readers, and those who create space and platforms to share and be inspired.

From Belfast to Brighton, conventions continue to be busy, bustling, happily tiring, inspiring places to network, discuss, meet and share. Every time someone new is inspired to pick up my books is a gift, and in the pages I hope they discover the gift there for the taking. We write to reflect, to find words for the pathways, to shine a light on the injustices, to problem solve the solutions, to have fun, to create worlds, to entertain, to inspire, to support, to empower, to bring colour, so much colour.

And as writers, in turn we are inspired by the stories of others. Visiting Belfast and the wider surrounds of Northern Ireland is storybook country in itself, with Game of Thrones now embedded into the fabric, a hugely inspiring ground from which to navigate the SFF worlds on offer at this year’s convention. Not forgetting the real life history of a complex place, as well as the story of the Titanic, a bold statement on Belfast’s waterfront.

Brighton too was a special trip, not least for the storms battering the sea front, which added atmosphere to a swelling community of SFF lovers, including wise words from Joanne Harris: ‘Fantasy is the secret language of the sub-conscious.’

Locally, South Hams Lit Festival was wonderful to be a part of, as well as Return of the Mantra featured on Plymouth’s Ferndale Radio show as book club read of the month. Huge thanks to Mimi, the radio host, for welcoming me into the studio to discuss the breadth of inspiration behind the novel, and for sharing readers’ reviews as well as her own thoughts. Of course I have what inspired the writing, the places, the worlds, the characters, but it’s always fascinating to hear what the stories mean to readers, what visions it conjures up in their minds. For Mimi the visions were reminiscent of places she has known from her mixed cultural heritage, which she shared in generous depth. I aim to be a visual writer, and hearing her enthusiasm for all the story had conjured for her, felt to be an honour and a privilege. Now I’m looking forward to returning to the studio in the New Year, when The Warder will feature as book club of the month.

Throughout the year I have shared many titles I have enjoyed reading. Meanwhile my to-read pile grows. Here are just a few titles waiting patiently on the shelf.

And Book 3 of Blood Gift Chronicles draws near, with an extra special surprise in store too, so stay tuned.

This is my journey as one year closes and another year opens, and I’m filled with gentle optimism, inspiration, and colour.

Wishing you a gift-filled, peaceful and joyous New Year.

Happy New Year 2026!

Lights of Winter Solstice

Winter solstice, and while around the world, festivals celebrate the wonder of light, the long night invites us to rest and restore. As each moment brings us closer to the sun again, the promise of spring lies in wait, and we quietly await our own transformations as, through rest, our fires re-ignite.

The process of writing is a reminder of the power of rebirth, creating, recreating, and spawning miracles when it seems as though the light is dim. Fantasy fiction breathes tales of light and dark, percolating energies to exude them anew.

‘Only in silence the word, only in dark the light, only in dying life: bright the hawk’s flight on the empty sky.’

Ursula K. Le Guin, The Creation of Ea.

In my current work in progress, Book 3 of Blood Gift Chronicles, elemental magic explores processes of transformation, magic that is littered with different forms of light: from the fires of a dragon’s breath, to mysterious lights ocean deep, to Suni’s crystal that sees her through. And, behind the light lie themes of dormancy and hibernation, in the creatures, the weather, and the personal journeys of courage and hope.

‘To light a candle, is to cast a shadow.’ Ursula K. Le Guin.

Stories light the spark of inspiration, in writing as in life. My current read offers the perfect tonic for a cold, dark winter’s night. And for anyone yet to be introduced to Sarah Ash, I would highly recommend her worlds of epic fantasy. Sarah’s books fuse a perfect blend of everything we love of traditional fantasy tales spanning the continent and beyond, with prose that binds us to the page, leading us into colourful worlds and characters that frighten, amaze, appal, and inspire. I love the plethora of shades that Sarah brings to her work, and the characters that steal our hearts. Kiukiu is currently stealing mine, her and the Snow Lord snow owl she saves, that just might return the favour…

And while writing and reading continue, every once in a while it’s time to step outside for a big breath of fresh air. Winter lights are always a delight…

… as is seeing the sights of nature. A visit to Seaton’s sprawling wetlands was a tonic, a place of natural lines of reed beds and waterways, preserved and conserved by local wildlife agencies. From redshanks to curlews to shelducks, increasing numbers of birds are flying in from distant shores to overwinter, feeding on ample crustaceans that provide fertile feeding ground on the stretching sandbanks, watched over by the resident peregrine roosting up high, and a passing flock of clacking and chatting Canada Geese, slowing fading as they fly on by, restoring the ambience of rushing reeds swaying in the breeze. A tonic.

And as the sun fades over glassy water, more light shifts and forms, glows and fades into slumber, before rising to start a new day.

And on this new day, I return to the edits, a perfect process of transformation, renewing, layering, finding the spark to brings words to life. I know what’s coming, it’s an edit after all, but anticipation still brews for the big awakening.

Wishing everyone a light filled winter, and blessings for a very Happy Festive Season, and above all, peace.

‘May it be a light to you in dark places, when all other lights go out.’ JRR Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring.

xxx

Nature’s Magic

Summer is here and through the mixed bag of rain and shine, it’s lovely to get out and about for a breath of fresh air at the river, where cygnets are hatching and the heron’s out fishing, and swallows fly ducking and diving over the reeds.

And in the River Otter, industrious beavers are building their damns. We were lucky enough to catch sight of one of these gorgeous creatures tucking into a well-earned dinner, and all thanks to Devon Wildlife Trust. DWT successfully pushed back against the UK government who had planned to have beavers removed from the river after a sighting of kits in 2008. After consultation, the first wild beaver re-introduction project began, starting with two family groups. These industrious creatures successfully began managing the waterway, and after evidencing the benefits to both people and wildlife, in 2020 the government announced Devon’s beavers could stay – and spread naturally into other river catchments. It was the first legally sanctioned reintroduction of an extinct native mammal to England. Currently there are 15 family groups estimated, and long may they continue to thrive.

An appreciation of wildlife extends into my fantasy series, Blood Gift Chronicles, with nature and magic entwining to form a luxurious backdrop. The natural world is more than a setting, it is a character, with moods, histories and qualities that can be bizarre, tragic, mysterious, frightening or inspiring. Once the backdrop is alive, I explore how the characters interact with it, and how it weaves its way into revealing culture, belief, and conflict.

The natural world is intrinsic in the worlds we create. It provides us with food and water, and air to breathe; it nurtures crops with rain and sun, offering herbs with medicinal properties; it is one of the reasons we are alive. I enjoy stories that invite us to reflect on our relationship with living things. While some stories portray characters with human-like traits, I prefer to work with a more realistic approach, and leave it up to the human characters to discover ways of forging connections with wildlife that is wild.

The first book in the series, Return of the Mantra, explores the idea of nature being personified against a backdrop of conflict. The young woman protagonist, Suni, explores contrasting environments, surviving to discover and forge her own identity which strengthens her fight for justice. Another significant character, a boy called Wanda, begins his mysterious journey in understanding his unique connection with wildlife. Through the series we see characters age and grow as the world expands, and revelations are explored through the connections characters have with the natural world. There is tenderness, wisdom, ferocity, devastation, and strength, through themes of self-determination, environmental justice, love, loss, and becoming. I particularly enjoy scenes of heightened empathy that express the significance of our relationship with the natural world. And in writing book 3 I’m enjoying the renewed strength that characters old and new bring, among wildlife that lets us know just how significant it truly is. In turn there is an exploration of what it means to be human, vulnerable and alive.

And now, back to the novel…

Wishing everyone a lovely week ahead…

A Change of Nature

Following on from my last post, the theme of nature is still in mind. In the garden, the lavender is growing, the hedgehog is visiting, and stray newts are making random appearances in the grass, despite there being no pond…

With a backdrop of bird’s singing, and the gentle hush of nearby bamboo brushing in a summer breeze, it’s a textured backdrop. Add to this, trips to the beach for some sea air, edged by sienna cliffs of the Jurassic coast, home to nesting birds and basking seals, and more layers of fabric add to the scene.

Sights, sounds, colours, scents and the all-important feels, develop a tangible world. Worldbuilding has been the focus of my novel writing in recent months, that and the courage to attack a re-write with renewed vigour, and a capacity to allow for organic change. The changes were greater than I had first imagined, and the efforts are paying off. The key – layering the world, being true to the world, true to the characters, embodying perspectives and when those perspectives necessarily alter, breathing into the flow and, quite literally, taking flight. There’s a clue there somewhere, though dragons are no secret. Then comes the interesting question of perception, and as I’ve said before, I’m going with my own inventive model of dragon, with explanations rife in a world where magic is its own science.

Subverting expectation is a common theme in my work, often times associated with gender. it’s an interesting concept to combine this with dragons, considering the concept of power, the expectation of power, contrasted with the truth of identity. The answers are coming and I’m excited to see them revealed… after more rewrites. A story is written once, and it is worth taking the time.

For now, a breath of fresh air and some sun… Have a great weekend, everyone…

 

Nature’s Magic

Summer is upon us and the weather is warm warm warm. Still, no excuse for not sitting indoors writing! And the writing is flowing, for an array of shorts, and for the novel. Inspiration is a common theme, and I don’t have to look far to be inspired, by nature, by colour, by stories both personal and fictional.

A recent trip to the river Otter gave a glorious fix of wildlife, or at least a tantalising reminder of those special moments of hope. Following Devon Wildlife Trust’s successful reintroduction of beavers into the area, I had hoped that maybe, just maybe, I might see one. Alas, it was not meant to be, but special in any case to see gnawed trees and an impressive dam. Given a chance, these industrious creatures are fighting back against flooding, while bringing a whole host of species back into area – the magic of nature. And so we looked, scouring the riverbank, soaking up the wild atmosphere.

(Click here for more about the river Otter in a previous blogpost – #lovedevon)

Nature is a prominent theme in my series, Blood Gift Chronicles. In Return of the Mantra, I explore the cost of exploitation; in The Warder, it’s the fight to preserve wildlife; and in Book 3, there’s a personal connection with the natural world, so personal we might actually merge. Like its predecessors, Book 3 is bringing a personal arc that is out of this world, transformational, and colourful.

Colour…

At home, flowers are starting to bloom…

The bikes are out…

There’s art in the cathedral on the theme of nature…

And my own art is slowly taking shape.

Colour, nature, magic…

What’s your inspiration?

Nature’s Solace

I’m looking forward to a busy week ahead, with lots in store for International Women’s Day, among other things. But first, time to reflect on a moment of peace and quiet with a visit to Dunsford nature reserve. It seems timely to celebrate a piece of nature, with the recent announcement of the Global UN Treaty to protect marine biodiversity. Here on land, and at a local level, we continue to be thankful for Devon Wildlife’s efforts in preserving local habitats.

Last year’s visit to the reserve inspired a poem simply entitled Dunsford, click here. There were no squeaking otters this time around; instead we were treated to a flowering of early springtime bulbs with carpets of daffodils punctuated by snowdrops and wandering robin redbreasts. Surrounded by woodland valley slopes, breathe fresh air and follow the meandering path of Devon’s river Teign…

 

Wishing everyone a great week ahead…

A Touch of Nature

Mia is the in-house monitor for season changes. From sun worshipper during the heatwave, to couch potato, taking to her red blanket when Autumn arrives.

After a summer of family grief and the upheaval that comes with it, summer passed in the blink of an eye or a hazy wave, dependent on the moment. So before all the leaves have disappeared from the trees, I thought I’d revisit a recent outing to a local reserve, lovely Dunsford.

We’re so grateful to Devon Wildlife Trust for maintaining these pockets of nature, an outing so magical it inspired a poem:

Dunsford; by Susie Williamson 

Walk with me,

You who feels troubles plenty,

Weighed with thoughts of disconnection,

Bring your heavy steps,

Across the swathes of Clifford Bridge,

Spy the magic from afar,

Allow your mind, your thoughts and all that you are,

To embrace,

Open your heart to the wonders abound,

Dunsford Reverse, nature’s ground,

Where coppices grow, regrow, recycle, renew refresh,

Tune your senses to the cool, crisp clarity of nature’s drug,

Eyes wide to the magic like a heady rush,

In this place of vivid tones,

And transient joy through valley slopes,

Cast your eye,

Over crystal clear waters of the River Teign,

With a rushing flow felt deep within,

Your cells alive with the sounds of a watery dance,

Spy the slender pickings of a native dipper,

The distant tap of a kingfisher,

And in a moment your heart skips a beat,

To hear an otter’s indomitable squeak,

You pause,

Beneath the arched boughs of a sycamore tree,

A place of nature’s unity,

Leaves touch glassy water with the lightest kiss,

While tumbled-down steeples of jagged rocks,

Cloudy crystal granite shards defend the shores,

Watched by passing deer from slopes up high,

Through dappling fronds their furtive spy,

Grants a wish,

For those who look beyond the pale,

To where sun and moon cast dreamlike rays,

Too soon for springtime daffodils,

But climb woodland heights for magicked sights,

And long-tailed tits like dragonflies,

Acorns beneath giant ferns like trees,

Half-eaten in this woodland sanctity

Passersby,

Feel the brush of air from a tawnies wing,

The distant sound of a goosander’s song,

Climb through hazel, oak and hawthorn,

Barbs to give a friendly scratch,

While reaching heady woodland heights,

Breathe the view of this vast valley,

Home to bracken slopes and fallow deer,

And know, our connective tissue.

New Horizons

I’ve returned to Blood Gift Chronicles Book 3 and it’s good to be back. In the midst of a revisit to early drafts, I’m no stranger to heavy-handed deleting, as I incorporate ideas I’ve been mulling over for a while. I plan and plot, dig deep for depth and meaning, while leaving space for the story to evolve and the characters to grow.

I’m excited for this story that will once again work as a standalone, but really, why wouldn’t you read the whole series! Each book is a story in itself, but they’re all connected by an overarching theme. The background mystery we’ve seen unfold so far, comes to a finale in Book 3, and as the world expands, new characters arrive, intermingled with familiar faces. As before there is grit and magic, mythology and drama, love and survival, and dragons… all driven by intriguing characters and spellbinding landscapes.

Like I said, it’s good to be back…