Back to writing! Ronan and Stella are so ready to call it a wrap!
Major rewrites were interrupted by surgeries and other unavoidable life events. I've only just returned to writing, but I have to say that I'm really pleased with what's going on. The story is already better, deeper, and stronger. Frankly, I think that's partly because I, myself, am. I hope so, anyway.
I will continue to share my progress -- and some teasers along the way!
Happy Holidays!
Major rewrites were interrupted by surgeries and other unavoidable life events. I've only just returned to writing, but I have to say that I'm really pleased with what's going on. The story is already better, deeper, and stronger. Frankly, I think that's partly because I, myself, am. I hope so, anyway.
I will continue to share my progress -- and some teasers along the way!
Happy Holidays!
His city. Rónán set his sketchpad and charcoal aside and gazed down at Edinburgh in all of its sweetness and grandeur. He would never tire of this view. The castle, palace, parks, gardens, museums, monuments, shops, restaurants, hotels, pubs, flats, houses...and hospitals... He couldn’t forget the hospitals and other medical facilities. That he was able to come up here, that he could actually climb to the summit of Arthur’s Seat without pain, was yet another miracle wrought in this place and time.
And, of course, the University of Edinburgh…his university, his home, his work. It was, in effect, his everything -- until he climbed up here.
He refused to claim the memories that came to him in the night, unexpected, uninvited. He neither wanted nor trusted them.
But in this place, before the day began or as it ended, he could think, reflect, remember. Climbing Arthur’s Seat was different, something he chose for himself, something he needed. The view helped him keep things in perspective, reminded him of everything he had lost as well as everything he had gained.
Maybe, like the city before him, he would become a dynamic blend of old and new. Timeless.
Or was time an illusion? Was Edinburgh?
How about his life?
And, of course, the University of Edinburgh…his university, his home, his work. It was, in effect, his everything -- until he climbed up here.
He refused to claim the memories that came to him in the night, unexpected, uninvited. He neither wanted nor trusted them.
But in this place, before the day began or as it ended, he could think, reflect, remember. Climbing Arthur’s Seat was different, something he chose for himself, something he needed. The view helped him keep things in perspective, reminded him of everything he had lost as well as everything he had gained.
Maybe, like the city before him, he would become a dynamic blend of old and new. Timeless.
Or was time an illusion? Was Edinburgh?
How about his life?
A Little Excerpt from All Shook Up
“We can’t just replace one person with another, can we?” Certainly, no one could replace her mother.
“No.” He shook his head vigorously. “We can’t. But it’s nice if we don’t have to be alone with only memories.”
“True. Especially since not all memories are good ones.” Another breeze… She closed her eyes and turned towards it. Her thoughts and emotions were all over the place tonight.
He didn’t respond. After a moment, she opened her eyes and looked at him. He was watching her.
“Do you think that good, new memories supplant old, good memories?” he asked.
She thought for a moment. “No. We can have both.”
He nodded. In agreement? She wasn’t sure.
“But…” he continued, “can good supplant bad?”
She drew a breath. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know.”
“We can’t just replace one person with another, can we?” Certainly, no one could replace her mother.
“No.” He shook his head vigorously. “We can’t. But it’s nice if we don’t have to be alone with only memories.”
“True. Especially since not all memories are good ones.” Another breeze… She closed her eyes and turned towards it. Her thoughts and emotions were all over the place tonight.
He didn’t respond. After a moment, she opened her eyes and looked at him. He was watching her.
“Do you think that good, new memories supplant old, good memories?” he asked.
She thought for a moment. “No. We can have both.”
He nodded. In agreement? She wasn’t sure.
“But…” he continued, “can good supplant bad?”
She drew a breath. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know.”