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We do not really have the facilities to keep our chickens indoors for several months - and what about the three ducks? At the moment they are disgruntled because the pond is frozen over. Or their chagrin could be caused by the fact that we chuckle as they go skidding across the surface, quacking and flapping like mad.
My husband, Ron, keeps homing pigeons. Are we going to be able to race this year? Mind you I reckon we must have the only pigeons in England who are shortsighted and need a road map to find their way home. I suppose we will just have to wait and see what happens, and possibly vaccinate. Until then, with typical British fortitude, we shall all keep a stiff upper beak.
I never realised when I began writing professionally that I would receive so much pleasure from my books - not just from the novels themselves, but from the many new and fantastic friends I have made because of them. People who are King Arthur fans, wishing to read more of what he might have been like; people who regret England passing into Norman hands in 1066 and who weep at the end of my story Harold the King.
Also those who enjoy the ultimate fantasy of the eighteenth century, the Golden Age of Piracy. I do so appreciate your friendship and support. Thank you.
Now, bring me that horizon!
Several people have asked me about these blue ribbons. Have you noticed the ribbon on my home page? "What is the significance of this blue ribbon?" they say. I suggest you read Sea Witch and find out.
Here my story ends; I fancy I am still in the orchard, with my friends, standing under the apple treesA couple of fans are researching details for the next book in the Sea Witch Chronicles, Pirate Code. Having read Sea Witch and fallen hook, line and sinker for my charmer of a rogue, Jesamiah, they volunteered to help out. Polly went on a Caribbean Cruise, Tanya is going to Florida and Vicki is spending a week on a tall ship Oh envy! Thank you ladies. The sights, sounds and smells are so important to help bring a story to life.
Woke up weeping the other morning. Silly I know, but I had a vivid dream about Jesamiah, Tiola and another character who will appear in a future book. It was during that half-asleep, half-awake time, when dawn is not quite up and about. I suppose the characters must have been on my mind, but I plainly saw a scene of Jesamiah being chased up the slope of a forest: I could hear and smell the sea, hear his breath panting, the snap of dry twigs beneath his boots. I won't tell you what happened as I can't let cats out of bags can I? Suffice to say, an important character gets killed.
I have dreamt scenes before. In Harold the King, I dreamt the scene of Edyth Swanneck watching some riders pass by on the far side of the River Lea, then I saw her running up the slope of a meadow, her kingfisher-blue cloak fluttering. I dreamt several scenes of the Pendragon's Banner Trilogy but Jesamiah has outshone them all so far. Perhaps it's the pull of the sea and a love of ships that plays out these scenes in my head? Almost like a private movie show. How much, I wonder, are these experiences all a part of an over-active imagination?
Or then again, Jesamiah is so real to me. Is there perhaps something in the idea of a parallel universe? Are the events that are happening there leaking through, and we authors happen to be tuned in to picking them up? It sounds a bit silly I know, but, can anyone explain just how so many scenes manage to write themselves? I set out to do it one way, and it ends up completely different, the words, the action just happens, unrolling in my mind as I type. Now that is spooky, and it's also the difference between a good book and a mediocre one. If the characters become so alive to the author, then they will come just as much alive and real to the reader.
Not sure if having a real pirate around is a good thing though. Heard a small boy walking past my house the other day loudly proclaiming to his mum: "Mummy, that's where the pirates live!" Hmmm.
Beyond reason, comes belief.