Thirteen Knives

One of my readers commented on how my story took them to another place; somewhere unfamiliar, which intrigued them. I love the research of writing; immersing myself in a new life, or revisiting one that I have lived. The last piece I wrote was difficult, as I was a tourist in all the experiences myself. I had no former memory to draw on, and nothing of the story or the involvements which my characters went through were familiar to me. This is where the research part gets tricky. Several readers have mentioned how my descriptions are so well-written; so it was a genuine challenge this past month as I travelled into a world I have never been in. My academic background has helped me in this respect. The discipline to be thorough adds to the reality created when constructing a story; from creating the foundation of the immersing plots to resolving all the loose ends, all take patience and careful attention to detail. 

With all of my other stories, there is an element from my life that comes to life through the story. It gives the opportunity for me to appreciate those excursions in more detail, to examine perspective from a new point of view. And even better to re-examine the reality through the lens of perspective that the distance of time offers. I wrote a story a few months back where one reader remarked on how “the conflict in their relationship seemed so natural (and sad). I loved your characters, they were so real.” This is because there is a piece of myself in everything I write, from a shy little girl in an old-fashioned elevator to the painter in the story I am writing.

I watched as the colour ran down the ferrule to collect in the bristles of the head. As I unbuttoned my shirt and let it fall to the ground...

It is perhaps why I unwittingly test the boundaries of my explorations; my subconscious takes notes for a future purpose which will be revealed when I least expect. And why, when a reader says “this is a really good portrait --- it feels realistic and heartbreaking” that although they may not be familiar with the dynamic I write about, they can commiserate.

Epistolary Relationship

There is something comforting in the distance, maintained and intimacy cultivated through words. As a teenager, I loved the Griffin and Sabine series. At a dinner party a few years ago, I learned the author lived on my little island, and I fault him for nurturing this romantic nature in me. The thoughtfully curated sentences that caress a reader’s psyche to conjure a fantasy beyond the reach of reality. 

I only just learned of the term the other day. Although I am well versed in the epistolary relationship; I did not have a term to define the romantic excursions that have led me into worlds I may have never experienced were it not for my love of writing letters. 

When I think of the people I have met in person because of such relationships, I can’t help but fall back into the romantic images created in my mind from their words. The interchange of our communication, and the shared yearnful tension that such a relationship nurtures. There is both a safety and vulnerability that is only attainable in the “epistolyrical” world. And, while one can remember the feeling it creates in our hearts and minds, it is forever lost when we meet face to face...