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Island Life, Word Birds & Process

Yesterday I attended a local Library Event. I live an hour away from the venue so yes, a short journey to get there. As I drove, with the early morning mist drifting heavy as smoke between the trees, I was struck by the simple beauty of it. I thought about what the mist might conceal, what wonders I might discover if only I knew the magic words to let me through.

But I was driving & there was somewhere I needed to be. I contented myself with the wondering. The road unwound, the mist magic changed shape & it occurred to me how well authentic magic holds the world together. How cleverly nature presents us with a version of unreality we don’t have to explain, because now and then we can suspend disbelief & enjoy small magic.

We were a merry band – most of us knew one another & we were there because we care about what we do. About writing, books & yes, libraries. If we were disappointed by the small footfall, we made the best of it. The staff were fabulous: they supplied us with coffee, tea & biscuits, expressed their gratitude to us for supporting them. We sold the odd book (or not) & chatted with each other.

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With Christoph Fischer – the Dude

I could have stayed home & cracked on with my new story. I’m glad I didn’t. I’m pleased I filled the day with people, books & engaging conversations. The space in between the pages of my new draft is full of placeholders, for what I don’t yet know. The clocks went back last night & this morning I woke to delicious darkness (another small magic we take for granted.) I contemplated my new ghost: the improbable (perhaps the impossible) & how I might make it imaginable.

In that bright, welcoming library, as I signed my one sale – & dedicated it to the wife of a lovely man who bought it because he knew her well enough to know it would be her kind of book – I was reminded that days like these are small magic & the best kind.

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