Yes I’m still Sher-locked, which frankly is pretty amazing, because I have a foolproof method of destroying these ‘passions.’ My method? I push everything to its limit until I expose faults and failings. Then having exposed ‘things’ that I don’t like I leave the subject behind. This could be a part of my character that needs further examination – someday – when I find the time or inclination? I blame it on my star sign – Scorpio. We are relentless creatures at best and at the worst? Doesn’t bear thinking about.
I qualify this by retaining the attitude that life is too short to waste time on dilly-dallying, soft shoe shuffling, taking time to know people and things, imitating a dried-out summer stream, trickling and meandering. No, let’s bomb the dam and dive in. Let’s push everything to its limits and then assess.
Sometimes, what my brain produces, seemingly from nowhere and unasked for, surprises even me. People ask where I find inspiration for my writing? And the truth is I don’t – it finds me – always. And I never know when an idea or inspirational thought will hit.
One Sunday I was watching Fairytale – A True Story, a story about…yep, you guessed it, fairies. In one scene a fairy jumps into the air from a picture frame and the frame tilts. From that one action came my short story, Promises, and not only that – if I dare to blow my own trumpet briefly – Promises went on to win a short story competition. All that from a one second scene.
Most of my ‘inspiration,’ especially for the short stories, comes from country music. Country is my first passion on the music front. Having said that I go from Def Leppard to Andrea Bocelli. I love music. LOVE it! My short story, ‘Obediently Yours,’ was inspired by the country singer Alan Jackson. This my come as a surprise if you have read this story?
Country music is a bit wrist-slitting at times but if you filter out the depressing stuff you are left with wonderful stories and visions. I truly believe that there is a country song for every mood and emotion. Sometimes, (reasonably rarely now thank goodness), when I’m really fed up, I’ll whack on the old headphones and blast my brain with the most depressing stuff I have and sit and cry my heart out. Surprising it helps. No point keeping all those emotions locked-up inside, and when you are a self-professed control freak it’s sometimes hard to let go, even of your own feelings.
When I was in Spain recently, being driven somewhere, and taking a rare moment from talking, the whole plot for a novel came into my head. Unfortunately the plot was so depressing that I don’t think I would survive the writing of it.
Not sure where this is going now. So, maybe the train has hit the buffers? Is it called a buffer? Sounds right…but it may not be.
Take care my lovelies x
PS Oh, if you want to read any of those short stories here’s the link. There are ten in the compilation and they cost next to nothing. Your choice. Oh! and don’t be mislead by the whimsical cover, some of the stories are a bit grim! http://www.amazon.co.uk/Eternal-ebook/dp/B0094J03B4