I guess other writers must do this – jot down little things they see, people who look interesting, or do something unexpected, places which suddenly resonate, odd phrases from books which trigger a thought, a flash of countryside as you drive along a busy road – I write them down, but in actual fact, rarely use them, although they must inform my writing subliminally.
- Do you ever see something that is instantly recognisable and familiar, but you’ve never seen it before. Or if you have seen it before and recognise it, you don’t understand why it seems so very significant now.
- Driving south on the M5, just entering Devon, there’s a bridge over the motorway on the crest of a hill before we dip south. The support at the edge of the other carriageway was a series of columns, maybe five of them, and the noon sun, streaming on them illuminated them – as if painting vertical stripes, warm beige cream on inky black. For some reason this made a powerful impression on me.
- All we know is that we need to be behind ourselves.
- Hurrying uphill, he strode past me. I knew him from somewhere – or maybe I didn’t and he just seemed familiar. Small, bespectacled, collar length greying hair. Was he anxious or just rushing, late, or maybe he always strode out, his little legs like pistons.
- Slaphazardly.
- Altarnun.
- Only when you get to the end, can you begin.
- There’s a chip of moon in the sky.
- Looking out into the hotel garden, through the slatted blinds, she noticed the woman in the long, blue, backless dress walk out, and as she passed through the gateway in the trellis, she glanced back over her shoulder, and then again.
There are many more, some unfathomable, some suggest a new story or idea to me. I wonder which ones I will pursue?
My featured image is of Dark Hedges in County Antrim, taken over a dozen years ago, before it became internationally famous.
Lois Elsden 