More on "Writer's Block" (if that's what this is)
Back in 2003, my sister and I took a trip to the Isle of Man. We bought an ordnance survey map in order to find stone circles, fairy hills, and what not. It was a brilliant map, large and exhaustively detailed, with walking paths measured out all over the island. So, we set about hiking.
Funnily enough, the walking paths, though they're public, are neither well kept nor well marked, which serves as part of their charm, I suppose. Sometimes one will disappear, or only go in the opposite direction it seemed to lead on the map (which could cause a navigator to put the ocean on the wrong side, as my sister is delighted to remind me; I still claim that this is not my fault). In other instances, the walking path may cut through someone's field, making it so that not only must you pass over a stile to continue on your way, but you must make friends with a herd of curious cows.
Walking on the Isle of Man is an adventure, and it's small enough that, even if you get lost, you'll eventually find your way back. Unfortunately, those moments of being lost are not the fun moments (thought they often make the best stories).
Right now, in my writing process, I have a map. It's a lovely ordnance survey with all of the sites I want to visit labeled in large, bold letters. I know where I've got to go. But the walking paths are all wrong, and I feel as though I'm about to trespass on the breeding grounds of herring gulls (oh, yes, that's one of the stories from that fateful trip) or am facing a herd of unfamiliar cows, and one of which could be a bull in disguise. The worst bit of it is that I can see Millner's Tower (a landmark of Port Erin, Isle of Man) from here. I just can't see how to get there.
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The reason I'm writing this now is two-fold. One is that my husband laughed at me when I told him I was looking at cows across a stile. And two is shameless procrastination.
Look what a good blogger I am when I'm avoiding writing a novel!
Funnily enough, the walking paths, though they're public, are neither well kept nor well marked, which serves as part of their charm, I suppose. Sometimes one will disappear, or only go in the opposite direction it seemed to lead on the map (which could cause a navigator to put the ocean on the wrong side, as my sister is delighted to remind me; I still claim that this is not my fault). In other instances, the walking path may cut through someone's field, making it so that not only must you pass over a stile to continue on your way, but you must make friends with a herd of curious cows.
Walking on the Isle of Man is an adventure, and it's small enough that, even if you get lost, you'll eventually find your way back. Unfortunately, those moments of being lost are not the fun moments (thought they often make the best stories).
Right now, in my writing process, I have a map. It's a lovely ordnance survey with all of the sites I want to visit labeled in large, bold letters. I know where I've got to go. But the walking paths are all wrong, and I feel as though I'm about to trespass on the breeding grounds of herring gulls (oh, yes, that's one of the stories from that fateful trip) or am facing a herd of unfamiliar cows, and one of which could be a bull in disguise. The worst bit of it is that I can see Millner's Tower (a landmark of Port Erin, Isle of Man) from here. I just can't see how to get there.
--
The reason I'm writing this now is two-fold. One is that my husband laughed at me when I told him I was looking at cows across a stile. And two is shameless procrastination.
Look what a good blogger I am when I'm avoiding writing a novel!