Writing is considered to be a solitary pursuit and so it is while one is in the throes of creation. But it is no more solitary than any other creative work such as painting, sculpting, embroidering and so on. Anything that requires concentration, thought and effort has to be solitary because in that moment one is totally centred upon the work in hand and all else must be shut out both literally and metaphorically. In fact through writing books, I have made dozens of amazing and wonderful friends and aquaintances who have kept in touch with me for many years. Many live abroad and I will be meeting up with a fellow author in the States later on this year after many, many exchanges of e-mails and cards and gifts. This lady has helped me with her support, belief in me and useful criticsm.
However, it has to be said that most writers are reclusive at heart.
We love to sit in a study, stare out of the window and dream and then plot and let characters begin to take shape on the page. Some like to work out their plots in full detail. I cannot do this and if I do it never works. The moment I start to write the characters take over and began to interact, talk amongst themselves. I'm just the hands on the keyboard, they exist in their own right. Are they people who live within me, my own sub-personalities? They must be. Where else would they come from but within my own psyche?
It makes me understand something, very, very dimly of what the Bible must mean when it says that the Creator made Mankind in his own image, from His own substance. Creative people are pulling forth from themselves and fashioning from their own clay.
The time draws near for my book launch at Goldsboro Books in Cecil Court London. Lots of wonderful people have promised to come along for a glass of wine and a nibble and will, I hope, buy a book or two or three. Even if they slink away without so doing, it will be such a pleasure to have gathered them all together to discuss books and writing and other joyful pursuits.
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