Today it was as though I received a visit from a tall and shimmering lady, whose gown was an incandescent red and whose robes bore the fullness of Time. I knew, I just knew, that every bit of poetry in this world has received her touch, and that everyone who has ever felt a drop of inspiration has beheld her face.

I made to clutch at her long and impossible train, but her minions held me back.

“It doesn’t work that way,” they told me gently. “But she’ll be back soon enough.”

Doubt

August 16, 2009

In my mind, Doubt has always been a squarish kind of word – an austere, rigid, securely fastened door guarded by Family, Society, the Authorities and the People Who Know Better.

Nobody really wants you to unlock Doubt, much less hold it ajar, step in and see what it has in store.

But one day I did open that door, and despite my fear and trembling I saw a great Light, and many dreams and fantastical creatures, for the strangest and most beautiful things on earth have sprung from Doubt.

Magic

August 13, 2009

Who knows what lies in the secret places of a book? What is the dream, the spirit that inhabits its pages?

For every book, I think, there must be a guardian angel, someone who looks after its journey, ensuring that each one travels where it must, lands where it must, speaks as it must, reaching the very people who need it the most.

This is why, when we read, our hours are sprinkled with pixie dust. And the more aware we are of the magic, the deeper it works.

Publisher

August 9, 2009

Sometimes I like to dream of my dream publisher. Of course, I haven’t finished writing my book yet, but what’s the harm in fantasy?

Many writers wish for a publisher with a famous name, infinite patience, flexible deadlines and a never-ending Rolodex. But really, I would like nothing better than a publisher who considers nothing sacred; one who loves wrinkled pages, secretly reads romance novels, adores the sound of wind-chimes and makes an excellent pot of tea. And also, hopefully, smokes a pipe.

Are you out there?

Travel

August 6, 2009

We travel either to find new parts of the world, or new parts of ourselves.

When we travel to discover new parts of the world, we rarely lose our way, never forget our cameras, regularly consult our Lonely Planets and are always aware of the rate of currency exchange.

When we travel to find new parts of ourselves, we may leave some things behind. Perhaps we misplace our maps and, in asking for directions, look into the eyes of a stranger and find the path to our own souls.