Kate Genet's Blog, page 8

The Next Big Thing Blog Hop

Tag, I’m it.

Thanks to the wonderful writer, Baxter Clare Trautman, I’m presenting my addition to the Next Big Thing Blog Hop. It’s a pretty cool idea and has been going on for a while now, hoping to give you an introduction to some of the terrific writers of lesbian fiction out there with whom you may not be familiar.

We’ve each the same questions about our current masterpiece to answer, so enough of the preamble, let’s get to it.

 

What is the working title of your book?

It usually takes me ages to come up with a decent title for my books, or even a half-decent one, but this time I had the title almost before I’d finished the first chapter. I’m going to stick with it too, so the book will be published under the title Irrevocable.

It sums it up nicely, because some choices you just can’t undo.

 

Where did the idea for the book come from?

I’ve a bunch of story ideas I’ve been incubating for the last few years. This one just made it to the top of the list. Having said that, I’ll give you the more interesting, if somewhat longer story. I was daydreaming one day a couple years ago wondering what I could write about that really scared me. Aliens, I decided. Terrifying. Road trip. Two women, one of them dying. A close encounter. And then it just became a matter of what if…?

The idea’s changed a great deal with the actual writing. It always does, but the bare basics are still there.

 

What genre does the book fall under?

I tend to go with horror as a broad genre for most of my work, and it fits with this one too. There’s a bit of sex and drugs and rock n’ roll in it too of course. Well, not so much rock n’ roll, and the only drug is morphine for pain control, so perhaps you’d better forget I said anything…

 

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie?

Wouldn’t have the foggiest idea. I don’t think I watch enough movies or television to be able to say.

 

What is the one line synopsis of your book?

Crap. I’ve usually written the blurb by this stage of things, but haven’t even tried with Irrevocable yet. I’ll give it a go:

There’s no making peace with death, it always comes at a cost but for Serenity, the price is too high when  her dying wife is threatened by what seems to be alien lights from the sky.

Oh, that’s terrible. I’ll have to come up with better than that, meanwhile, let’s try again with the longer version, shall we -

What is the long version of the synopsis?

Serenity and her dying wife Lillian are taking their last road trip to visit Lillian’s mother. It should be easy, or as easy as it gets when you’re on a one way road and the Grim Reaper’s manning the toll booth. Serenity’s driving, Lillian’s asleep, they should be there soon. Until the moon shows up in the rear view mirror.

It’s not the moon, and this mysterious orb haunts their trip. It haunts the bleak stretch of coast where Lillian’s mother lives too. Worse, one light becomes several and they seem to be drawn to Lillian.

Serenity’s frantic. She hasn’t taken well to going from wife to nursemaid, but now, she has to play protector, against something she doesn’t even understand. And the choices she makes may well put the power of life or death into her own hands.

 

 

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

Self-published, as all my work is. I enjoy the freedom to set and not meet my own deadlines.

 

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

I started this book back in September, but have only been able to work on it intermittently. I expect to have it finished in a week or so. It usually takes two or three months for a first draft.

 

Who or what inspired you to write this book?

There are certain situations and questions that fascinate me. What would you do if everything you thought was certain turned out not to be? How do you discover which choices are good choices? How far are you responsible for the people you love? And what do you do when you are forced to look death in the face? Plus, you know, throw in something that scares the crap outta you.

 

 

What else about the book might pique the reader’s interest?

I figured I might as well be ambitious with this book and tackle one of the big questions – you know, death, and how far you would go if you thought there was a chance of changing death’s nefarious plan to take the one you loved from you. Especially when you’ve found out how complicated it is to love and care for someone who is dying and how everything changes in those circumstances. Or at least they have for my character Serenity. Chuck in something supernatural and inexplicable, a mysterious (and temptingly attractive) woman who knows more than she lets on, and the heavy burden of having to make choices for someone close to you and you’ve got yourself what I hope is an interesting, frightening and compelling read.

 

 

Anyway, thanks for stopping by. Irrevocable isn’t out yet, but I’m hoping it will be soon. Stay tuned!

Filed under: Writing Journal

The Dark Side

It’s been a while since my last blog post, I know. I’ve been busy with such non-fiction things (to quote my partner Jae) as real life. There’s been a lot happening, but I did find myself starting a new novel a couple of months ago – called Irrevocable, and although I’ve only worked intermittently on it, it’s coming along well.

I had hoped to have it finished by now, and indeed last week, I thought I was only a few chapters away from the end. Then over the morning coffee, I had an IDEA. A sort of what if this happened in the book, instead of that? flash of inspiration. Inconvenient, but fun.  The idea struck me as pretty damned awesome, so I spent that day looking the 80k word manuscript over to see if it would work. It would and it will, so the end is again not in sight. Apparently I can’t write a short book anymore. I’d thought this one would come in somewhere at the 65k word length, but it passed that long ago. I guess I was having too much fun. Anyway, I’m still hoping to have this one and the half-finished next book in the Michaela and Trisha series out by Christmas, but I might be hoping for too much, once the whole editing and proofing and formatting thing is taken into account. And the fact that we’re moving house next week.

Which is a shame, because I have a whole lot of things planned for next year, and I’d really like to start fresh.

Which brings me to another reason why you haven’t heard much from me just lately. I’ve been doing an awful lot of thinking about the direction I want my writing career to go in. I’ve enjoyed writing every single book I’ve put out in the last two years, there’s no question about that, or that I’m going to continue writing the same sort of stories, but I’ve decided to branch out into the mainstream as well.

You see, I love horror fiction. Always have, always will. It’s what I prefer to read and it’s what I prefer to write, but it’s sure not a way to make a living writing horror stories for lesbians. The market’s just too small. Not that I’ve been doing too badly at all, or that I expect to find great gobs of success in the mainstream market, but I do want to broaden my writing horizons.

A lot of the stories I want to write don’t have any big focus on relationships, and it’s the relationships you kinda need to include if you want to write lesbian fiction. Otherwise, well, it’s just fiction, isn’t it? So, I’ve decided that the stories I want to tell that are plain and simple horror stories, I’ll write under another name (Kate Hansen) and those in which relationships play a significant part, I’ll continue to write featuring lesbians, and as Kate Genet. I’m hoping there are people who will read from both lists.

It’s an exciting idea for me, because it frees me to really let my imagination go wild when it comes to storylines. Of course, it’s going to mean a lot more work, but when your job is as fun as a day at the circus, what’s a little hard work?

I’ll be keeping this blog going, though perhaps not posting so often, and I know there are still going to be plenty of stories I want to write with a lesbian focus, so all you faithful readers of mine will still be getting some satisfaction. And if, like me, you’re a horror fan, you can come check out what I’ll be writing over there on the dark side.

Wish me luck!

Filed under: Writing Journal

Spinning A Yarn

It has been a frustrating couple of weeks. Just when I was getting back into the swing of things, I got sick and everything ground to a halt. It’s frustrating enough to be restricted in how much I can do every day due to chronic illness ( I have Fibromyalgia and Crohn’s Disease) but this time I got sick by trying a new medication in the hopes it would make me feel better. Seems an unnecessary way to learn the meaning of irony.

But I’m writing again, and although after just a couple hours today am feeling in dire need of a nap, I’m making good progress on my novel and enjoying the story immensely.

I always feel like the first reader of my stories, along with being the writer. I write in such a way that I discover the story as I go along, feeling wonder and anticipation at the characters and the storyline just as if I were a reader.

My partner Jae and I have been talking quite a bit about writing methodology lately – in fact she just posted a blog on this very topic, and we’ve had some very interesting discussions. And although I understand the way she writes, now, and it sounds such a lot of fun to do it like that, it still baffles me completely.

She and I have two very different methods of writing. As I’m typing this, I can see she has just done a groovy, coloured chart of all her plot points, a sort of mind map, with lots of arrows and connections. She writes scenes from all over the book, in an order I can’t determine and likens it to quilting where pieces of the fabric of the story are patched together to make a whole cloth. It seems a very technical way of doing things, and I’m fascinated by it, but if someone were to sit me down and insist that I copy this method, I’d be completely stumped. How would I write a scene from the middle of the book, or the end, when I don’t know what happens before that?

I don’t build my stories the way Jae does, I excavate them. That’s the closest I can come to explaining how the process works for me. It feels like my main job is to get out of my own way when I want to write and just let the story manifest itself. I’m almost convinced, when I sit down to write, that even though all I really know is something about the main character, and something about what I want to happen to her, in reality the story is there already, nearly complete in some back room of my creative conscious and all I have to do is throw open the curtains and dust it off – one word at a time. It’s scary stuff, to have to have that level of trust in your own process to just get out of the way and let go, but it’s also totally exhilarating.

I know, when I sit down to write each day, what the next scene will be basically about – although there have been too, I admit, quite a number of times when I’ve sat down with no idea at all – but I’m always surprised at what turns up. The characters say and do things I never consciously thought of, they veer off into areas I’d never considered, circumstances change beyond my intention.

In other words, I’m writing blind. I start at the beginning of the book, the very first sentence and the story unfolds under my fingers. I start with a character and a situation, a glimmer of an idea about what I want to happen, and a dim possibility of the ending, and that’s it. The rest comes during the process of writing, the actual process of typing words onto the page. I don’t even go back and make changes while I’m writing. It’s long been a mystery to me how I can include foreshadowing in a story for a plot line I had no idea of at that time, and which doesn’t become apparent until significantly later in the story – and yet that’s the way it happens. Neither do I read the story over while I’m writing, except the last couple of paragraphs to remind myself where I’m up to.

There’s no way I could sit down and plot a story, no way I could start anywhere but the beginning, no way I could weave together disparate scenes, consciously looking for connections between them. I kinda wish I could – it sounds fun, to do all that work in the front of my mind where I can see it, and I think it would be a very exciting way to write, consciously pulling everything together – what a feeling of satisfaction that must give! But I only have to spend a moment considering it to know it just wouldn’t work for me.

I love the sense of mystery in the way I work. I love never knowing what really is going to come next.

And how it always seems to work out.

Filed under: Writing Journal

I Am The Muse

As you can see from my dinky word count meter which is newly up again, I’ve started a new novel. I put the meter up in the hope that it will help me get back into the routine of writing every day – a sort of public accountability, if you like.

A few weeks back, when I decided it was time to start a new book, I was tossing around several ideas, all of which had been patiently waiting in line at the back of my mind. I even sat down and did 5000 words on one of them before deciding it wasn’t a story I wanted to write at the moment. So, drawing up a fresh, blank virtual page, I tried again, with another idea, and this time it stuck. Or has stuck so far. Seems like it might be pretty sticky when you’re almost at 30k words. I’m usually sure by 20k that the story I’m working on is meant to be written.

I wanted to write about something I was really afraid of. Most paranormal phenomena I find fascinating rather than terrifying, though I would perhaps not hold that opinion if I were to personally encounter something strange and unexplained outside of the pages of the books I write.

But there are a few things that even the idea of them frightens me, and I wanted to write about one of those. I’d been carrying around this particular idea for a while and it appealed to me also because it wouldn’t be a story about a woman alone, which all of my novels so far have been, even when the main character finds a relationship during the course of the story. I think that may be a hangover from the many years I’ve spent as a single woman. Wanting to change that, I decided upon this particular story to tell.

A funny thing happens, however, when you begin to write a story down. Even when you think you have a pretty good grasp on your cast of characters, and what you want to happen to them, it seems as though they take on a life of their own once you begin fleshing them out.

The story changes. The characters change. They become fully rounded, and fully rounded characters are like fully rounded people – they don’t always act in the way you’d expect them to. You drop them onto the page, in circumstances of your own devious devising, and they don’t do what you thought they would.

It can be quite alarming.

Until you realise that with this seeming autonomy of your characters, the storyline has become deeper and more complex, and there are twists and turns ahead that you never even thought of, but which can change what you’re writing from something good enough, into something potentially very exciting.

How does all this happen though? Obviously your characters aren’t autonomous. They aren’t real people thinking for themselves. They’re barely even facsimiles of real people. They have no flesh, no blood, they’re nothing but words on a page, the invention of a writer’s convoluted creative processes.

How can a writer then claim surprise at the actions of their own wordy creations?

I always wave my hand nonchalantly in the air and dismiss it as some sort of esoteric magic.

But I’m guessing that’s probably not true, even though it would mean a lot less performance anxiety if the process were also in the hands of some inspired, even if frequently erratic, muses.

Really it’s all part of the condition of being a writer that causes this. A writer is someone who thinks about things, sees the world as fodder for narrative – everything available for use, who obsesses over the human condition. But when they sit down and write, all that thinking turns into something else, it has to turn into something else, all that thought and consideration percolating inside until it overflows as story, and a natural narrative is arrived at.

It seems to me to be an astounding process – to achieve a delicate balance of accessing our unconscious and having the ability to direct it, to add to it the details and narratives that please us.

As Allan Gurganus put it: “[Writing is] a combination of being enormously intellectual and willful and smart and also being as trusting as a baby.”

I just hope my characters know what they’re doing.

Filed under: Writing Journal

Routinely Retrained

I’m back, more or less, after a couple months away from writing, concentrating instead on my personal life. More or less, I say, unsure, because when there is significant, even significantly wonderful, change in one’s life, routine is the first thing to suffer.

And without routine, creative, artistic work is hard to sustain.

I had a pretty particular routine worked out. Up in the morning, kids off to school, drinking coffee outside, admiring the morning while thinking about the day’s writing and the dogs snuffled and sniffed their way around the back yard.

Then inside, housework, shower, and to work. Only the briefest examination of emails, then straight to MS Word, a quick read over the last few paragraphs from the day before then fingers to keyboard, and even if I wasn’t exactly clear on what the day’s writing was going to be, I was usually far far away in that fictional world before too much time had gone by.

Excuses are too easy to come by when you’re a writer, or I suspect, any other type of artist. I don’t really feel like it today. I have too many other things to do. I don’t really know what I’m going to write today and I think most of what I’ve already written is rubbish anyway.

Without some sort of routine, no matter how much I’m enjoying the rest of my life, I feel untethered, uncertain about what I’m doing, and even its purpose. I don’t write, then start to feel panicked because I’m not writing and it’s so hard to get back into the routine of it. I fling myself around like a leaf in a strong southerly, directionless, smacking wetly against one thing then another until I’m plastered against a wall somewhere not knowing what I’m doing because I’m not writing.

Routine is what allows us to feel comfortable about self-discipline, and believe me you need self-discipline in spades if you’re going to write a book. It takes a pretty good serving of both courage and faith to sit down each day and pile words upon a page. The easiest way to find both those things is to pretend it’s no big deal. Make everything feel normal and unobtrusive. Sidle up to the desk as though it’s the most natural thing in the world, and it does feel pretty normal when you’re doing it every day as a matter of course.

Turn up for the job like it is just a job. I’m on time, the brain is ready because I’ve trained it to be ready at the same time each day, the muses are here and waiting because this is when they’ve come to expect me, so now we can just get to work and the words with flow or they won’t but I’m here either way.

So a change in routine can be more of a big deal than just a few missed days or weeks. There is a whole retraining that needs to happen. Creative habits are hard won and easily lost. Making a new routine after time away requires, it seems, much gritting of teeth and sheer bloody determination. I tell myself that I may not be sitting down to work at the usual time anymore, after the usual things, but I’m sitting down anyway, and I’ll put fingers to keyboard and I’ll write.

And I’ll do it every day.

Because that’s what writers do. And that’s what I am.

Filed under: Seducing the Muse

The World Is Too Full To Talk About

There’s something in silence

that sounds almost like a sigh, the hushed

sort people usually reserve for

visits to the art gallery where

they look at the paintings of the old masters

and feel important

or small

depending on what sort of people they think they are.

I rather like the silence, that long pause, that space

seeming to whisper some old, sweet longing,

something none of us quite grasp,

as though it’s just out of reach

-when really,

The longing is everything,

compressed inside

what we already have.

Filed under: Writing Journal

July Book Review: Building Character by Kate Genet

Reblogged from Gabriella West:

‘Building Character’

by Kate Genet, 2012, Kindle/Smashwords ($6.99)

 The summer months are difficult ones for indie authors, who tend to see sales of their full-length ebooks diminish. A book that came out last month without much fanfare is Kate Genet’s latest, Building Character, and it’s an accomplished work that deserves a second look.

The tale rather deliciously dwells on a well-known writer’s anxieties, as she finds a seductive character from her own work becoming real and slipping into her day to day life, with disastrous results.

Read more… 883 more words

I incubated this novel for a couple of years before I figured out how to write it. Wasn't the easiest book to write (though I thoroughly enjoyed myself) and I guess it's not the easiest book to read, but many thanks to Gabriella West for her review:

The Real Story of Fat Pat and Maryanne

When Trisha decided to spin a bit of a yarn about a man called Fat Pat and the accidental death of his wife Maryanne, little did I know that would end up being my most popular blog post ever. Trisha does have a certain way with words, so I guess I shouldn’t have been too surprised by it all.

A few months back I decided it would be fun to write the real story of Fat Pat and the death of poor Maryanne, so consequently I tracked the man himself down (no mean feat, but made easier by the fact he is currently an inpatient at a nuthouse) and sent along an eager young guy to interview him.

Well, the eager young guy brought back quite a story. Quite some story indeed. I did a bit of a spit polish job on it, but to tell the truth, Pat has something of a way with words too, and I really had to do no more than sit back and let him tell the tale himself.

Did Trisha have the facts right? It’s available right now on Smashwords, and will be up on Amazon by tomorrow. I guess you’ll just have to read it yourself and see, so without further ado, I give you -

Fat Pat and the Accidental Death of Maryanne

Pat seems like a regular guy. Drinks beer. Watches football. Drives a truck.

Maryanne’s his wife. All she wants is a kid.

Pat knows there are shadows in every man’s heart. Most times it’s just from the way life grinds you down, but sometimes it’s a canker.

He has the canker.

Filed under: Writing Journal

How Character Was Built – Interview

Kelli Jae Baeli, one of my first readers for my new book Building Character, kindly agreed to interview me about the novel:

Tell us about Building Character. Where did the idea for the book come from?

I had the basic idea for Building Character a year or more ago. Just a snapshot in my mind of a woman seduced by one of her own characters and thought that would make a pretty cool story. It took so long to get started on the actual story because I knew the main character (Fen Marshall, as she turned out to be) wasn’t going to be the most sympathetic of characters, and I wondered how readers would feel about a main character who was initially not all that easy to like.

Originally I saw this character as married with a couple of teenaged kids, but realised I could never write her that way as it would bring in the whole infidelity aspect and I just didn’t want to go there, as the book then would become about something totally different, something I have no desire to write about at the moment.

Then I found Fen Marshall. She lives on her own. She’s a complicated woman but interesting enough, I hope, to capture the reader’s attention even though she may not initially be the most likable. Building Character is so much her story – how she grows and develops as a result of these extraordinary things that happen to her. I suppose every story is about that in the end, but this time it is more pronounced because the character herself has to recognise and choose this growth. It was very interesting to write.

How is it different from your other novels–for you and for the reader?

For me, it was a lot harder to write. I knew from the start that it was going to challenge my skills as a writer. That’s a good part of the reason I wanted to write it – that and I thought I was onto a cracker of a story.

Building Character has a much slower start to the story than my others. I had to do it this way because of the necessity of introducing Fen Marshall and making sure the reader has a good idea of her before things start happening. Everything in the story happens because she is the type of person she is, so I had to characterize her very carefully. One of my beta readers hated this slow start to the book and told me the first chapter was boring and should be scrapped. I didn’t agree and kept it as it was, so I’ll be very interested to hear from more readers about it. (The other beta reader loved it and thought it was perfect, so I went with my own instincts about it).

Building Character also has a lot of sex in it, which was different for me to write. All my novels have sex in them, usually just the one scene, but this book was different; the storyline actually required more in this area. I was both embarrassed and delighted during the writing and found it all quite amusing – I’ve never written anything before that used sex for characterization.

What did you learn by writing this book?

I learnt that I love a challenge, that I’m not a writer happy to stick to one winning formula, that not only do I want to continue exploring the supernatural in my books, but that character-driven stories are just as important to me. That’s what I love most about writing, I think – putting characters in challenging situations and watching to see how they cope with them, learn from them, and become stronger because of them.

I also found that I love the technical aspects of writing. Building Character presented several challenges in the writing. Having to introduce a fantastic aspect into the story in a way that the main character barely questioned it called upon all my resources as a writer. I loved the feeling that I was weaving something together that required a delicate touch and a steady hand. I was never bored once in the writing of this book and relished the opportunity extend myself.

I noticed that the character of Marissa was frightening in its illumination of the obsessive psyche. And the character of Ruby was equally disturbing in a delicious way–Should we be worried that you understand abnormal psychology so well?

Both Ruby and Marissa are secondary characters that were such a lot of fun to write. I didn’t realise during the writing that I was getting the abnormal psychology so right, I was just letting the characters take over. Marissa was a lot of fun because here’s this woman living in her own little delusional world, hampered by the lack of ability to see anything except through her own needs, yet not even having the skills – language skills especially – to express herself. I’ve done some reading in the past on the psychology of stalkers, so maybe that helped when it came to poor Marissa.

Ruby was another fish in the same kettle. I got a lot of enjoyment out of her simply because it’s so fun to write characters who are so unusual and fixed in their view of themselves and the world. Villains are so easy to write because you don’t have to worry about any arc of personal growth and change. They don’t change, they don’t grow, they never doubt or question themselves, they never worry about why they do what they do; they have their psychopathic little view of the world and that’s all there is to them. I was totally gobsmacked while writing a lot of the scenes about Marissa and Ruby. Their actions were so often horrifying to me personally, but at the same time totally in character and Ruby’s glee was – yes, I’ll admit it – just a little contagious.

Building Character is now available on Amazon, AmazonUK, and Smashwords. It will be available on B&n, Kobo, Apple,  and Sony within the next couple of weeks.

It will also be the first of my books available in print. I will let you know more closer to the time. 

Filed under: Writing Journal

Dissolving the Endless Distance

Most of you know by now that I write the occasional piece of poetry even though I’d classify myself as a novelist if anyone asked. But one of the main things I enjoy about poetry – reading and writing it – is that it asks us to think, and think deeply about not only what the poem means, but how it uses language to shape and deepen that meaning.

Studying poetry at university was probably the most helpful class I ever took when it comes to my writing.

Oh sure, you say. Kate, you write horror/paranormal/supernatural stories. Where does poetry fit into that?

It’s about language. Poems are all about language and in an extremely compressed form. They say so many things using so few words. They give you insight, not only into what it means to be human, but into what language and communication is about and the ways in which it can be displayed, manipulated, enjoyed, all in an effort to provide the reader with some deeper meaning.

I was reading through some of my favourite poems and came across this one, an excellent illustration of what I’m trying to say.

Meditation at Lagunitas

BY ROBERT HASS

All the new thinking is about loss.

In this it resembles all the old thinking.

The idea, for example, that each particular erases

the luminous clarity of a general idea. That the clown-

faced woodpecker probing the dead sculpted trunk

of that black birch is, by his presence,

some tragic falling off from a first world

of undivided light. Or the other notion that,

because there is in this world no one thing

to which the bramble of blackberry corresponds,

a word is elegy to what it signifies.

We talked about it late last night and in the voice

of my friend, there was a thin wire of grief, a tone

almost querulous. After a while I understood that,

talking this way, everything dissolves: justice,

pine, hair, woman, you and I. There was a woman

I made love to and I remembered how, holding

her small shoulders in my hands sometimes,

I felt a violent wonder at her presence

like a thirst for salt, for my childhood river

with its island willows, silly music from the pleasure boat,

muddy places where we caught the little orange-silver fish

called pumpkinseed. It hardly had to do with her.

Longing, we say, because desire is full

of endless distances. I must have been the same to her.

But I remember so much, the way her hands dismantled bread,

the thing her father said that hurt her, what

she dreamed. There are moments when the body is as numinous

as words, days that are the good flesh continuing.

Such tenderness, those afternoons and evenings,

saying blackberry, blackberry, blackberry.

This poem fascinates me, especially as the poem is a meditation, a form of ode.

I have every admiration for the ode; to be able to capture something in its moment, to be able to see something then and there the way it is, has its own satisfaction. How quickly though that moment is lost. It seems to me little wonder that so many odes focus on nature, which suffers its loss but regenerates, or takes for subject matter objects which stand unmoved against time – mostly unmoved.

I’ve found in my own writing, when attempting the ode, that loss creeps in even so; the associations that come to me more often than not are ones of time, change, and lost opportunities. Experience – the way we see, feel and translate the world around us becomes, as in Hass’s poem, a series of associations. Nothing is what it is on its own and nothing can be captured in its entirety, pinned down, labeled.

To me, it is as though we see something and yearn to capture its essence in our writing but are afraid even while we try that it will never be so; even the most beautiful and concise language is never enough, and something is always lost and in most ways this is so whether it is poetry, short stories or even perhaps novels that we write.

“…From this ode the world from words that burst

open, and this awful sadness spilling

even so from the rapture that contains everything.

To Mount Victoria – Ian Wedde

 

Filed under: Writerly Workbox