Hi everyone, it's been long hot week in Britain. Now I know, I know, some people live in much hotter areas of the world but let's ask ourselves one question; how the hell can you enjoy an English cup of tea when it's thirty degrees and no air? The answer is, you can't! I tried it and resorted to loading it up with milk to the point where I may as well as had a cup of milk.
Still, it was nice to see the country bask in the sun.
I'm off down to London next week, really looking forward to seeing the usual tourist sights but... Hang on... BUT...!!! I am on writer mode, everything I look at or round will be absorbed like a sponge in water, even the London Dungeon will inspire me.
When I say 'even the London dungeon' that is no detriment to the attraction, those places for me are so good and enjoyable that they fly by in an instant and everything you see and experience is compacted into the actual fun you have and a lot of details can be lost unless you have a second visit. I intend to not throw myself into... Ah, who am I kidding? I'm just as bad as the children, I'm going to throw myself into the whole thing.
I just hope that i can absorb the atmosphere and take home at least some understanding of what it was like back then. The reason I'm talking about the London Dungeon is not because I like to ramble, nor is it because I'm looking forward to going away with my family. I have in my notepad an idea for a story that steps aside from what I'm currently working on, set in a Victorian world of the rich vs the poor, the desperate against the greedy.
I like to write stories that are inspired by my dreams; that feeling you have after a particularly weird dream where you are still in the process of ascending from it and can still vividly see the streets and buildings. You are still mentally immersed in that atmosphere of strangeness where you know that something is no quite... Real? Right? How it should be? That is how I want the stories to capture the reader, when he or she finally closes the book and stops... Just for a moment, a second to shake off the world that they have left.
I love weird, I love strange and I love that moment when I close the book I'm reading and tentatively glance out of the window to reassure myself that I am back in my house.
So, I'll see you next week London and cue obligatory Big Ben pics.
Have a safe week and I'll be back here soon.
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