Authors are often asked what advice they'd give to aspiring writers. I'd say: keep a notebook and write down whatever comes to you in the way of inspiration. RIGHT AWAY.
Some day I might even heed this advice myself. Only this morning I thought of something good to add to one of my on-going projects. "I'll remember that," I thought.
Ummm, no. It's gone. Completely flown out of my. head.
What's next for me?
That's the question I'm asking myself, now that the never-going-to-get-finished revision of Charmaine's story, provisionally titled 'Some Dance to Remember' i.e. my companion novel to 'Cape Town' is finally done!! Not dusted, yet though. That, hopefully, will be up to a good editor.
Nevertheless, I've been busy. Before diving into my newish project, or taking up a revision of my set-aside women's fiction manuscript, I've been going through my notebooks. Here's a sampling:
It's true. I'm a notebook junkie, especially as I still do a lot of my creating the old-fashioned way i.e. with pen and paper. Some of these pretty things were gifts. Thanks to those kind souls! But I do have enough for the present, and am determined to use up all blank pages. With this in mind, as I already wrote, I've been going through all old unfinished notebooks. What riches reside within! What treasures!!!
Yes, sometimes I surprise myself. This has everything to do with the image below:
Art work courtesy of step-granddaughter Isabella!
Saturday, April 11, 2020
Friday, April 10, 2020
Good Friday in Kalk Bay
In 2016, I was fortunate enough to spend Easter in Cape Town. Late summer is a good time to visit South Africa, and that year was no exception. I stayed with dear and precious old friends who lived in the house behind this fence... a property with breathtaking views over this character-full (in all sense of the word!) village and False Bay. Here is a poem which came to me:
GOOD FRIDAY IN KALK BAY
In Kalk Bay on Good Friday.
the boats don’t venture out-
No fishing till after
Sunday is past.
Today the sea is wild with unrest
wind lifts the waves
sea horses toss their manes.
Still, the hush of a subdued mood
reigns over the harbour.
A small world of its own.
While the greater cosmos
Waits, breath held;
While the God-on-earth
Goes through death.
We pray for a transformed fate,
New life for threatened souls;
New light for our spirits;
New hope for the earth.
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