This is going slow. Writing-wise that is. Writing a historical fiction book is not all that easy as I thought. For example; My story takes place in Scotland, ok, what I know of Scotland and its country is sparse, but enough to get by right? Wrong.
I had to make sure that the trees I had written about were actually grown there, that the floors of Elspeth's house, wooden, actually were around in the 18th century (they were). Elspeth's family have sheep. How many sheep? I said a dozen or so. Is that enough? One member of our writing group asks. Apparently, they would have a slew of sheep, not a few dozen. Or would they have had glass windows then, or the pantry they did have, made it into a room for Elspeth when she was little, so where did the food that was in the pantry go?
During this whole time, I am listening, trying not to lose it and saying, in my defense, "Does it really matter? This book is for young adults. They're not going to question stuff like that, they just want to read! Read a good story! Who cares if the glass windows should be there or not. Heck, most young readers could care less about our history, little lone something in the 18th century.
To put things in perspective, even if I didn't 'research' everything, I just knew and what I did know and write about was correct. TEN POINTS for me! I looked up everything they questioned and I was spot-on. I get what the meeting is for. I really do, but it was stressing me out big time.
Anyway, chapter 4 is the start of Mabon, the Autumn Equinox. As any practicing witch can tell you, the equinox is a powerful time energetically; the start of autumn, specifically, marks the point at which the light begins to wane. For pagans, equinoxes are particularly significant events, and the autumnal equinox—also referred to as Mabon by neo-Pagans—is somewhat equivalent to Thanksgiving. This is an important time to give thanks to Mother Goddess and the earth for her gifts. Those who practice Mabon see it as a time of balance between the opposing forces of light and dark, life and death: As you celebrate the harvest you've reaped, you simultaneously recognize that the soil is dying, that the nights will start to become longer, and that the earth is slowly going into hibernation.
So, until tomorrow, I will say to all those or those I wish and hope are reading this, a Happy Mother's Day.
I had to make sure that the trees I had written about were actually grown there, that the floors of Elspeth's house, wooden, actually were around in the 18th century (they were). Elspeth's family have sheep. How many sheep? I said a dozen or so. Is that enough? One member of our writing group asks. Apparently, they would have a slew of sheep, not a few dozen. Or would they have had glass windows then, or the pantry they did have, made it into a room for Elspeth when she was little, so where did the food that was in the pantry go?
During this whole time, I am listening, trying not to lose it and saying, in my defense, "Does it really matter? This book is for young adults. They're not going to question stuff like that, they just want to read! Read a good story! Who cares if the glass windows should be there or not. Heck, most young readers could care less about our history, little lone something in the 18th century.
To put things in perspective, even if I didn't 'research' everything, I just knew and what I did know and write about was correct. TEN POINTS for me! I looked up everything they questioned and I was spot-on. I get what the meeting is for. I really do, but it was stressing me out big time.
Anyway, chapter 4 is the start of Mabon, the Autumn Equinox. As any practicing witch can tell you, the equinox is a powerful time energetically; the start of autumn, specifically, marks the point at which the light begins to wane. For pagans, equinoxes are particularly significant events, and the autumnal equinox—also referred to as Mabon by neo-Pagans—is somewhat equivalent to Thanksgiving. This is an important time to give thanks to Mother Goddess and the earth for her gifts. Those who practice Mabon see it as a time of balance between the opposing forces of light and dark, life and death: As you celebrate the harvest you've reaped, you simultaneously recognize that the soil is dying, that the nights will start to become longer, and that the earth is slowly going into hibernation.
So, until tomorrow, I will say to all those or those I wish and hope are reading this, a Happy Mother's Day.
No comments:
Post a Comment