Tag: writer’s life

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?

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

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…

Happy New Year 2023!!!

With each new year comes a brand new book with blank pages just waiting to be filled, and I wonder what the new year will bring. In many ways, 2022 has been bursting with creativity, and it has been fun looking back on some of the highlights.

Most recently, it’s been wonderful to see my piece, Desert Flower, exhibited with Art Show International.

I often think that the process of creating my intricate, hand-painted mosaics, is as much a part of the art as the end result, and this one holds particular personal significance, as it was painted while staying with my dad when he was ill. The patience involved in the painstaking process of painting mosaic effect is something I know he would have appreciated. Art is significant, in all its forms. The smallest book can be the greatest gift. A painting can hold a world. Desert Flower was inspired by the deserts of Sudan, which I maintain great fondness for, from when I lived there many years ago. It’s a place that inspired another painting, Tuti Island. Deserts and the life I found there, also find their way into my stories:

‘The line of the horizon transformed into great mountainous peaks, cloaked in shades of orange with the setting of the sun. It was almost dark by the time we reached the first slopes on a path that abruptly grew steep. In the shadow of splintering crags and sheer cliff faces we meandered narrow paths, the soft thumps of the camels’ padded feet, and occasional whip cracks echoing around deep canyons. Like the desert, this was a barren landscape. I thought of the stories I had grown up with, thought of the picture my great grandmother had painted, and imagined a time when people had climbed these same mountain passes on a pilgrimage, imagined their footsteps still echoing where camels now trod.’ Return of the Mantra

My life is also enriched by the creative endeavours of others, in all its artforms, which in turn inspires me to continue finding routes to share my own. My re-kindled passion for poetry saw me invited to be featured poet for the night at a local favourite open mic event, which was great fun.

And of course it has been great to get out and about with my books, Blood Gift Chronicles, either in person, or online (thank you Covid!). And, as is customary, the new year will begin with scheduling for more, so plenty to look forward to.

In contrast, it’s always good to take the time for some R&R and a breath of fresh air. I’ll leave you with some photos of a recent trip to Haldon forest, where scores of real-life Xmas trees live, watched over by a robin or two.

Wishing Everyone a Happy, Healthy & Peaceful New Year…

xxx

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.

Quiet Contemplation

It has been a long and productive day on catch up with emails and various admin tasks, mostly in relation to up-and-coming events and conventions. Countdown has begun for WorldCon, the 80th World Science Fiction Convention in Chicago – thanks to Zoom I will be attending from the comfort of my writing room.

I’m looking forward to taking part in more panels and readings at WorldCon and other events coming soon. There’s certainly no time like the present to hone in on some of the subjects that strike a chord for me in reading and writing: intersectional feminism and queering the genres, non-conforming women warriors, challenging stereotypes, power dynamics, worldbuilding and the societies and creatures that inhabit them. I could go on…! It will be wonderful to share thoughts and ideas, be inspired, and add to that all-important reading list that never seems to diminish. Magic, literally magic!

In the meantime, around home are colourful corners for quiet contemplation. With more recent artwork to hang, I’ve been discovering unexpected partnerships between portrait and abstract mosaic landscape.

For further afield moments of calm, I feel grateful to have a river close by. Last Saturday involved a day’s cycling trip downstream as far as the sea, seeing the changing flow and feeling refreshed as the ocean’s vast expanse takes shape.

Yesterday evening, in need of a quiet moment and a big breath of fresh air, we took a meandering amble along the river, catching a riverside scene basking in a golden glow, before resting a while in Belle Isle park, where the weeping willows drape feathery tendrils against the riverbank.

Wishing everyone a good weekend ahead.

Stepping Out

I often make a point of getting out and about, appreciating the surrounds, finding calm in nature, inspiration in creativity, and optimism in colour. A recent visit to Stone Lane gardens was oozing in nature, creativity and colour. An enchanting woodland gardens on the edge of Dartmoor, famous for its Birch and Alder trees, and home to a collection of inventive sculptures, as well as giant rhubarb leaves (or at least I think so).

Another wonderfully colourful outing was an accidentally well-timed visit to Tiverton canal, where we were fortunate enough to meet the old shire horse, and resident collie of the horse-drawn barge, all set against a perfectly idyllic riverside backdrop.

There have been a few trips recently, delving into the countryside, looking for places to offer quiet, contemplative calm. And there is a reason for this, after being hit with the tragic death of my wife’s lovely mum, Ruth. It was of course a tragedy for Kate and all the family, and a loss that reverberated throughout the Royal Devon and Exeter hospital, since, like Kate, Ruth worked there as a nurse for many years.

#nursinglegends

We were comforted by the fact that Ruth died peacefully in the intensive care unit. Since my own hospital stay in 2019, I had gifted the unit with one of my paintings, and while waiting in the family room for news of Ruth, it was a comfort to see familiar artwork.

Throughout this time, it has been food for the soul to step out into nature, whether to the granite tops of Darmoor’s Haytor:

Or the tranquil fields of Dart’s farm:

Or closer still to home, along the banks of the river Exe, where sight of an old red telephone box filled with flowers, went some way to lift the spirits.

Wishing everyone a good and peaceful week ahead.

xxx

Summer Days

A moment to reflect on summer days, which have been a riot of colour for one reason or another. During Pride month, it would be remiss not to mention Exeter Pride, as colourful as ever and such a great thing to be back after so long. An eclectic gay day filled with love, laughter, and a public display of respect and tolerance; it’s always interesting to compare with the more political marches of ‘back in the day’, and a sombre reminder of all those still fighting for their rights. Usually, I get a gazillion snaps of the parade, but this year it was the faces of friends. Perhaps it still feels like a novelty, being out on mass. All ending with a stage of rap, beat boxing, poetry and drag. Such a great day!

 

Another local treasure that I was introduced to only recently came when I went to see a friend, Peter Farrie, perform at the glorious gardens of Studio 36. Prepare to feast your eyes on a wild and colourful spectacle that is a hidden garden here in Exeter, largely unknown but a favourite among art lovers. (Peter was also brilliant. Click here to check out his website of mellow sounds, catchy lyrics, and poignant snapshots of life.)

And last, but by no means least, a visit to Torre Abbey in Torquay, in time for a wonderful exhibition featuring Nigerian-born British artist, Chinwe Russell and her prominent women in history collection.

She said, and I quote: “In my usual bold style, I seek to remind us of the powerful powerhouse that women represent around the world. I am a huge admirer of women, who despite the many atrocities committed against them around the world, remain strong and steadfast to assure the next generation in perpetuity.”

Wangari Maathai was a particular favourite of mine, a woman who inspired a few lines in my climate change poem:

“Meanwhile, for inspiration look ahead of the curve,

Africa…

Mass reforestation and the great green wall, an aptly ambitious reserve.”

The art, gardens, building, and history perfectly capture a brilliant fusion of old meets new meets colourful.

All topped off with a view of the sea, and a lone swan beneath a bright blue sky.

Hope everyone’s having a great week… xx

The Magic of Fantasy

It’s been a week of furniture building and the house being upside down, including, shock horror, my writing room being out of action, and bookshelves out of reach. Among plenty of sorting and cleaning, I made progress on a latest painting project, more on that another time. And for solace, I thought of some of my favourite characters from fantasy fiction.

Any here that you recognise?

 

Rooted in the imagination, the inventive genre of fantasy knows no bounds. And soon, soon I’ll be back on Book 3 of Blood Gift Chronicles. And I’m looking forward to it, seeing how the world further expands bringing new landscapes, new people, new vivid sensory images to delight, appal, and offer up a spot of virtual travelling. We all have some favourite story places. I would gladly visit the lands of Patricia McKillip’s The Forgotten Beasts of Eld, and share a meal with Sybel in her cottage on Eld Mountain, watched by her weird and wonderful menagerie called by wizardry. Or a visit to the remote deserts of apocalyptic Sudan, in Nnedi Okorafor’s Who Fears Death, and meet with Onye, a powerful, gifted, flawed, steadfast young woman. I can still hear the sound of her singing voice communing with the desert.

George R.R. Martin said, ‘We read fantasy to find the colours again, I think. To taste strong spices and hear the songs sirens sang.’

Yes to all of the above, and to learn, reflect, challenge, escape, have fun, and flex that all important muscle – the imagination. Fantasy shines a new light, and creates a different edge. It redefines boundaries and allows for reclamation of landscapes. It offers up worlds filled with adventure, to inspire, offer hope, and teach us that anything really is possible. It shines a light on our identities, letting us know we are valid and valued, despite our strengths and flaws. It emboldens us to demonstrate we can tackle our demons, fight for our cause, and realise a state of peace and empowerment. And so much more.

So there is no shortage of inspiration, in a genre that can extend to the reach of your imagination. I look back fondly on scenes from the first two books in Blood Gift Chronicles: some of the stark environments thrust on Suni in Return of the Mantra, where she discovers what she is made of, contrasted with a mountaintop view where her view of the world will be forever changed. And in The Warder, as the dominoes fall, squeezing characters and revealing timeless bonds, the world extends into new lands where old and new, the mundane and the fantastical, coexist. If I close my eyes I’m transported to the islands and the musty air in the cavernous temple, with the sound of footsteps crossing the mosaic-tiled floor; in contrast to the warm desert winds of Shendi, carrying spells and curses that touch all those with the gift to hear…

Finally, I’m happy to report I’m back in my writing room, ready to explore new worlds.

Have a great weekend!