Faith is deferential incredulity

27 06 2008
So I finally decided to dust off the keyboard and start working on my book again. I had to re-read the whole damned thing to get back into place with myself and all I could think is starting over from scratch…not an exciting prospect when one is just under 200 pages into their efforts. It wouldn’t be the first time though. But instead I sat down and started re-working some of the areas I felt I didn’t get my intent across well enough in. And then I got a novel idea (get it? novel?). Go get a full sized wall map and then I can stop alternating between 8.5 x 11 pages of printed maps of each area.So I went to three bookstores to find a map I needed of the entire island. Of course cartographers or their publishers don’t think people want to see maps of an entire region so I can have a map of Wales, England, Scotland and Ireland…each individually but not on one damned hanging. But at the third store, I did locate such a map and was so thoroughly impressed and excited I didn’t bother to unseal it and look it over at the store.

I get home and I open it.

Now let me interrupt myself here to state that the region of the Brigantes is just south of York near about Leeds and on up north through Carlisle and across up to just south of Edinburgh.

The publishers, in all their wisdom, put Isles of Scilly up to York on one side and Isle of Man up to Orkney on the other! Thus, back to the store I will get to go and I guess I’ll just return to my individual map prints in my binders.

I took the time to peruse a few period novels and actually bought a couple, curious about their interweaving of brogue into text, but one is an immitation Harlequin and so smut filled I couldn’t get through page 8 before the ‘heroin’ was down to her ample breasts and had her ‘hero’ astride her…even though they had only met on page 6. The other is so thick with phoenetic text I can’t get into it; which all in all answers my curiosity and reassures me that avoiding the accent in written text is still the best way for me to go.

I noticed all of the books on clearance, some for merely pennies on the dollar and I am almost concerned that someday I’ll walk into a store and see my own workings on the 95% off shelf. Of course we cannot all be as lucky as Salman Rushdie and get a death threat to sell books. I read once in a writer’s magazine that the best any author can ever hope for is a book banning. I don’t suppose Cartismandua will be much of a means of pissing anyone off enough to ban my work so the prospect of being a reduced book is very probable.

As Salman said, “It is very, very easy not to be offended by a book. You just have to shut it.”
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