Kick Starting the Muse
I would be a rich woman if I received a pound each time someone tells me, “I could write a novel.” I usually ask why don’t you write it. More often than not the reply is, “I don’t have time.”
Time is the factor which separates writers from would be writers. There is always something which beckons a writer whether it is a mundane task such as doing the laundry, which I should make a start on right now, or accepting an invitation.
I would be even richer if I received a pound each time someone asks, “Where do you get your ideas from?” When the writing is not going well I’m tempted to smile and reply, “From the supermarket.” Actually, that’s not quite as far fetched as it seems. I’ve often overheard partial conversations that trigger an idea or seen a face which seems to step out of a historical era, a Roman soldier, a Norman Knight, a Mediaeval lady, a Franciscan monk, a Cavalier etc.
Potential material to kick start the muse is all around me and in non fiction, biographies and autobiographies. I am a historical novelist so my muse responds to something I read about times past, which must then translate itself onto the computer.
Stephen King wrote. “Don’t wait for the muse. This isn’t an Ouija board or spirit world we are talking about here, but just another job – like laying pipe or driving long-haul trucks.”
So, how have I trained my muse? I have always understood the importance of having a place to write in which my muse and I can settle down. Once it was at a desk in the corner of the living room, today it is the smallest bedroom in the house which I have converted into an office.
After long hard battles my sometimes reluctant muse now understands that I have a regular writing routine. I rise early in the morning, deal with some e-mails, edit the last few pages of the previous day’s work in progress and then write until 10 or 11 a.m. Later in the day I work from 4 or 5 p.m. to 8 or 9 p.m., and sometimes my muse prompts me at night with an idea.
Anyone can establish a writing routine. The important thing is to write for set periods whether they are long or short. For example, if we write half a page a day we will have finished a novel by the end of the year. A bonus is that the muse will respect this and, as the saying goes, knuckle down to work.
My muse stays with me most of the time. When I’m doing housework, gardening or shopping Muse helps me to plot and plan. Recently, while at the health suite enjoying my time in the Jacuzzi, my muse and I have been considering the sequel to my novel, Sunday’s Child. We have been tossing ideas backwards and forwards, rejecting some and building on others. By the time we settle at the computer or the laptop we will have a plot and theme.
Regardless of whether we are published or unpublished, if we are determined, with the help of our muses, we will find the time and space to write.
Rosemary Morris
Historical Novelist
Publisher MuseItUp
Tangled Love January, 2012
Sunday’s Child June 2012
False Pretences October 2012
Showing posts with label MuseItUp Publisher. Show all posts
Showing posts with label MuseItUp Publisher. Show all posts
Sunday, 18 December 2011
Saturday, 15 October 2011
Memories of Kenya & The Bolter by Frances Osborne
Memories of Kenya & The Bolter by Frances Osborne
I have mixed memories of my life in Kenya from 1961 to 1982. On the plus side are my happy recollections of the coast with its golden beaches, the grasslands teaming with wild animals, the lush green highlands. On the minus side I was always a stranger in a strange land. I missed my family and friends in England and in spite of a privileged lifestyle wanted to live in England. In fact, one of the happiest days of my life was when I returned to Europe for good.
Although Kenyan life was not one I embraced, I enjoy reading about the country. Karen Von Blixen’s Out of Africa and Elizabeth Huxley’s Flame Trees of Thika are two of my favourite books. I also found The Lunatic Express about the building of the railway interesting, and shuddered at the thought of the man eating lions the workers encountered in – if my memory is correct – Tsavo on the way from Mombasa to Nairobi.
I am now reading The Bolter the biography of Idina Sackville by Frances Osborne, about which Valerie Grove of the Times writes: ‘A corker of a subject, Idina’s behaviour…probably inspired The Bolter in Nancy Mitford’s The Pursuit of Love. Osborne’s richly wrought descriptions of glittering Paris nights and lush mountainous landscapes of Kenya’s Happy Valley are fabulous…A breakneck-paced, thoroughly diverting story.’
Apart from the account of Idina Sackville’s life are evocative descriptions of Kenya – the land, its people and settlers.
Idina and her second husband, Charles, won a 3,000 acre farm in a government lottery. When they reached their land: “…ahead of them the Aberdare Hills rolled dark green in the setting sun; from them fell ice-cold brooks, swollen by the recent rains. Below these their virgin farmland glowed with luminescent grassland and thick, red soil.”
Although the land had been developed by the time I lived in Kenya, there were many such views in the Highlands and always the rich red, fertile soil. When Idina settled there “Each bush throbbed with creatures large and small. Elephant, giraffe and antelope rustled through breaking out and swaying across open land. Leopard and monkey hung from trees reverberating with birdsong….at night when Idina and Charles sat outside they were surrounded by lookouts watching for wandering elephant, big cats or buffalo – its long, curved horns the most lethal of all.”
All this I can relate to but if I regret anything it is the golden Mombasa beaches on the undeveloped, idyllic south coast where we rented a house during our children’s school holidays. We played in the surf, swam in the warm sea and searched for shells at peace with the world.
www.rosemarymorris.co.uk
http://rosemarymorris.blogspot.com
I have mixed memories of my life in Kenya from 1961 to 1982. On the plus side are my happy recollections of the coast with its golden beaches, the grasslands teaming with wild animals, the lush green highlands. On the minus side I was always a stranger in a strange land. I missed my family and friends in England and in spite of a privileged lifestyle wanted to live in England. In fact, one of the happiest days of my life was when I returned to Europe for good.
Although Kenyan life was not one I embraced, I enjoy reading about the country. Karen Von Blixen’s Out of Africa and Elizabeth Huxley’s Flame Trees of Thika are two of my favourite books. I also found The Lunatic Express about the building of the railway interesting, and shuddered at the thought of the man eating lions the workers encountered in – if my memory is correct – Tsavo on the way from Mombasa to Nairobi.
I am now reading The Bolter the biography of Idina Sackville by Frances Osborne, about which Valerie Grove of the Times writes: ‘A corker of a subject, Idina’s behaviour…probably inspired The Bolter in Nancy Mitford’s The Pursuit of Love. Osborne’s richly wrought descriptions of glittering Paris nights and lush mountainous landscapes of Kenya’s Happy Valley are fabulous…A breakneck-paced, thoroughly diverting story.’
Apart from the account of Idina Sackville’s life are evocative descriptions of Kenya – the land, its people and settlers.
Idina and her second husband, Charles, won a 3,000 acre farm in a government lottery. When they reached their land: “…ahead of them the Aberdare Hills rolled dark green in the setting sun; from them fell ice-cold brooks, swollen by the recent rains. Below these their virgin farmland glowed with luminescent grassland and thick, red soil.”
Although the land had been developed by the time I lived in Kenya, there were many such views in the Highlands and always the rich red, fertile soil. When Idina settled there “Each bush throbbed with creatures large and small. Elephant, giraffe and antelope rustled through breaking out and swaying across open land. Leopard and monkey hung from trees reverberating with birdsong….at night when Idina and Charles sat outside they were surrounded by lookouts watching for wandering elephant, big cats or buffalo – its long, curved horns the most lethal of all.”
All this I can relate to but if I regret anything it is the golden Mombasa beaches on the undeveloped, idyllic south coast where we rented a house during our children’s school holidays. We played in the surf, swam in the warm sea and searched for shells at peace with the world.
www.rosemarymorris.co.uk
http://rosemarymorris.blogspot.com
Sunday, 9 October 2011
Writing Historical Fiction
Writing Historical Fiction
Historical fiction embraces different periods.
Prehistory, Ancient civilisations such as Egyptian and Indian, Classical (Mainly Greek and Roman History)Biblical, From the 1st century to the 20th century, Multi-period, Timeslip, Historical Fantasy, Alternative History, Children and Young Adult.
Historical Fiction can also be divided into different genres.
Fiction based on the lives of people who lived in the past.
Adventure, Romance, Crime, Thrillers and Whodunits, Mysteries,Military
These can be further divided into subgenres.
Arthurian, Mediaeval, Tudor, Elizabethan, Stuart, Georgian, Regency, Victorian, Edwardian, 1st World War, 2nd World War, Sagas, Pyschological Thrillers, Gothic (and Horror), Colonial U.S.A., Colonial, Civil War, American and its subgenre Native American Frontier, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Pirate and Naval.
More classifications can be found in Sarah Johnson’s Historical Fiction, A Guide to the Genre in which a chapter on sagas she includes authors from Africa, Asia, the Middle East, Latin America and many others.
Whichever period a historical novelist chooses to write about, research is vital. The reader needs to experience the sights, sounds and smells, visualise costume and places and enjoy the reconstruction of the era the novel is set in.
I don’t think any historical novelist can get every detail about life in the past correct but she or he can research conscientiously and, without drowning the reader in facts, convey past times as accurately as possible. Failure to do this means the reader loses faith in the author. There are examples which caused me to lose faith.
In the first example, the author referred to a tea gown spread over a crinoline in the Victorian era. The Victorians did not wear gowns called tea gowns over crinolines. Tea gowns were worn by Edwardians and were not spread over crinolines.
In the second example, in the days when mediaeval castles and keeps did not have windows, a knight in full armour scaled the castle walls, (how did he find footholds?) to the turret where his lady was imprisoned. After he climbed in through the window, the lady greeted him with smile and asked. ‘Would you like a nice cup of tea and some eggs and bacon?’ Well, she might have been referring to herb tea and I’m daresay they ate eggs with bacon but the reference seemed too modern.
Historical fiction embraces different periods.
Prehistory, Ancient civilisations such as Egyptian and Indian, Classical (Mainly Greek and Roman History)Biblical, From the 1st century to the 20th century, Multi-period, Timeslip, Historical Fantasy, Alternative History, Children and Young Adult.
Historical Fiction can also be divided into different genres.
Fiction based on the lives of people who lived in the past.
Adventure, Romance, Crime, Thrillers and Whodunits, Mysteries,Military
These can be further divided into subgenres.
Arthurian, Mediaeval, Tudor, Elizabethan, Stuart, Georgian, Regency, Victorian, Edwardian, 1st World War, 2nd World War, Sagas, Pyschological Thrillers, Gothic (and Horror), Colonial U.S.A., Colonial, Civil War, American and its subgenre Native American Frontier, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Pirate and Naval.
More classifications can be found in Sarah Johnson’s Historical Fiction, A Guide to the Genre in which a chapter on sagas she includes authors from Africa, Asia, the Middle East, Latin America and many others.
Whichever period a historical novelist chooses to write about, research is vital. The reader needs to experience the sights, sounds and smells, visualise costume and places and enjoy the reconstruction of the era the novel is set in.
I don’t think any historical novelist can get every detail about life in the past correct but she or he can research conscientiously and, without drowning the reader in facts, convey past times as accurately as possible. Failure to do this means the reader loses faith in the author. There are examples which caused me to lose faith.
In the first example, the author referred to a tea gown spread over a crinoline in the Victorian era. The Victorians did not wear gowns called tea gowns over crinolines. Tea gowns were worn by Edwardians and were not spread over crinolines.
In the second example, in the days when mediaeval castles and keeps did not have windows, a knight in full armour scaled the castle walls, (how did he find footholds?) to the turret where his lady was imprisoned. After he climbed in through the window, the lady greeted him with smile and asked. ‘Would you like a nice cup of tea and some eggs and bacon?’ Well, she might have been referring to herb tea and I’m daresay they ate eggs with bacon but the reference seemed too modern.
Sunday, 5 June 2011
A Novelist aka Organic Gardner's Saturday Morning
As usual, when I woke at 6.am, I went downstairs to make a mug of green tea sweetened with organic honey, and flavoured with a wedge of unwaxed, organic lemon. While the kettle boiled I turned on the tap to water part of the vegetable plot. I then wasted a lot of time trying to adjust the spray.
By 6.20 I was checking my e-mails and replying to some of them. Recently, junk mail has been appearing. How do I get rid of it? I changed my password for one e-mail address but it hasn’t helped. What satisfaction do people derive from wasting other people’s time?
An hour later, I applied on line critiques to my mediaeval novel set in the reign of Edward II. The novel is part of a planned trilogy. I finished the first draft several years ago and sent it to the Romantic Novelist’s Association New Members’ New Writers’ Scheme for a reader’s report. The report was incredibly useful. I applied all the suggestions and put my novel, Dear Heart, aside while I wrote my new release Tangled Love (formerly published as Tangled Hearts) set in Queen Anne’s reign.
My critique partners thought the chapter I submitted for their opinion lacked emotion. In retrospect, I agree and now know how to add depth to the chapter. The good news is that they can identify with the characters’ dilemmas and enjoy my descriptions of places. In the chapter the hero has returned from the Battle of Bannockburn.
“After all that Nicholas had endured on the battlefield, he could scarcely believe in the reality of this oasis with its luxurious furnishings, a cradle for the babe yet to be born, a loom, a spinning wheel and a prie-dieu. Glad to see everyday things, he gazed at the items on top of a coffer – the box Harold gave Yvonne for a wedding gift, her ivory-framed looking glass, a pair of gold embroidered gloves, a baby’s gold and coral rattle next to a tiny, half-stitched coif.”
I applied some suggestions, corrected grammatical errors and inserted notes about revision in the text.
In between applying critiques I turned off the hose and make breakfast – freshly squeezed organic orange juice and porridge. While I ate breakfast I watched the news and decided what I would do in my organic garden.
After breakfast I critiqued a chapter of an intriguing historical novel set in the Bronze Age. It will be the first novel I’ve ever read set in this period. By then it was 10 a.m. time to set aside my writing activities until the late afternoon and early evening.
I had a quick shower and went into the garden. The redcurrants hang on the bush like glistening jewels. I picked half of them with the intention of making a raspberry and redcurrant pie. Today I will pick more to make redcurrant jelly and – if there are enough – redcurrant cordial. The jelly is delicious in cream cheese sandwiches, added to a serving of my homemade yoghurt or in creamy rice pudding. The cordial is refreshing and the pie will be delicious.
Next, I planted out beetroot which I grew from seed in the greenhouse and sowed turnip seeds and white radish seeds. The leaves and long white radishes make a delicious curry. I then did some weeding. By then it was very hot so I had a drink made with homemade yoghurt and cold water and a pinch of salt. It is a very refreshing drink on a hot day. I sipped it while leafing through a vegetarian cookbook and deciding what needs to be done in the garden on the next day, a Sunday.
On Sundays I feed my tomato plants which I grow in pots and hanging baskets. Last year Idli tomato plants provided masses of succulent sweet, yellow cherry tomatoes, which my grandchildren ate like sweets. I decided that other urgent tasks would be picking the last of my broad beans, potting up bush basil and leeks that are growing in the greenhouse and sowing some more French beans. And, of course, there is the never ending task of weeding and pruning.
By 6.20 I was checking my e-mails and replying to some of them. Recently, junk mail has been appearing. How do I get rid of it? I changed my password for one e-mail address but it hasn’t helped. What satisfaction do people derive from wasting other people’s time?
An hour later, I applied on line critiques to my mediaeval novel set in the reign of Edward II. The novel is part of a planned trilogy. I finished the first draft several years ago and sent it to the Romantic Novelist’s Association New Members’ New Writers’ Scheme for a reader’s report. The report was incredibly useful. I applied all the suggestions and put my novel, Dear Heart, aside while I wrote my new release Tangled Love (formerly published as Tangled Hearts) set in Queen Anne’s reign.
My critique partners thought the chapter I submitted for their opinion lacked emotion. In retrospect, I agree and now know how to add depth to the chapter. The good news is that they can identify with the characters’ dilemmas and enjoy my descriptions of places. In the chapter the hero has returned from the Battle of Bannockburn.
“After all that Nicholas had endured on the battlefield, he could scarcely believe in the reality of this oasis with its luxurious furnishings, a cradle for the babe yet to be born, a loom, a spinning wheel and a prie-dieu. Glad to see everyday things, he gazed at the items on top of a coffer – the box Harold gave Yvonne for a wedding gift, her ivory-framed looking glass, a pair of gold embroidered gloves, a baby’s gold and coral rattle next to a tiny, half-stitched coif.”
I applied some suggestions, corrected grammatical errors and inserted notes about revision in the text.
In between applying critiques I turned off the hose and make breakfast – freshly squeezed organic orange juice and porridge. While I ate breakfast I watched the news and decided what I would do in my organic garden.
After breakfast I critiqued a chapter of an intriguing historical novel set in the Bronze Age. It will be the first novel I’ve ever read set in this period. By then it was 10 a.m. time to set aside my writing activities until the late afternoon and early evening.
I had a quick shower and went into the garden. The redcurrants hang on the bush like glistening jewels. I picked half of them with the intention of making a raspberry and redcurrant pie. Today I will pick more to make redcurrant jelly and – if there are enough – redcurrant cordial. The jelly is delicious in cream cheese sandwiches, added to a serving of my homemade yoghurt or in creamy rice pudding. The cordial is refreshing and the pie will be delicious.
Next, I planted out beetroot which I grew from seed in the greenhouse and sowed turnip seeds and white radish seeds. The leaves and long white radishes make a delicious curry. I then did some weeding. By then it was very hot so I had a drink made with homemade yoghurt and cold water and a pinch of salt. It is a very refreshing drink on a hot day. I sipped it while leafing through a vegetarian cookbook and deciding what needs to be done in the garden on the next day, a Sunday.
On Sundays I feed my tomato plants which I grow in pots and hanging baskets. Last year Idli tomato plants provided masses of succulent sweet, yellow cherry tomatoes, which my grandchildren ate like sweets. I decided that other urgent tasks would be picking the last of my broad beans, potting up bush basil and leeks that are growing in the greenhouse and sowing some more French beans. And, of course, there is the never ending task of weeding and pruning.
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