I’m beginning to pull my thoughts together for my next novel, the next one I am writing rather than the next one I am editing for publication; inspiration and triggers for creativity come unexpectedly; it might be something or someone I observe, it might be a snatch of conversation I overhear, a scent or aroma as I pass by an open window where someone is cooking inside… it might be a face in a crowd, an expression, an open door, a closed gate, or, as in this case, a house.
We were in a suburb of Bristol, a busy place with a wonderful array of different shops, interesting cafés and nice looking pubs and bars. Because it is busy it is almost impossible to park so we drive round to the side roads and the car park where we used to leave the car has been built on. As we parked, we noticed this house which was in such a sad and sorry condition but once would have been lovely. it still has the original stained glass in the windows, it still has the patterned brickwork leading up to the front door, and judging by the rust on the drain pipes, they are the original iron ones too.I took a couple of photos because this house does not deserve to be neglected; maybe this is where Sylvia Magick was born, maybe it contains secrets which can be revealed in my story about the Magick family… because Sylvia is a fiction, she is a character in my novel Radwinter, but a character on the sidelines… maybe her story begins here, in this old and now neglected house!