There is something about reading. Lots of us do it here on wordpress, it’s what has brought us together, and I tried to put into words exactly what it is that I love for Perdiz Magazine last week.
Here’s an excerpt from my piece, but head to the beautiful Perdiz (HERE) to read the full article.
“I was sat on my bed reading Charlie and the Chocolate Factory when I discovered my mum was moving us in with some strange man that wasn’t my dad. I stared at the fading bobbled butterflies on my duvet cover for a few seconds, and then I turned back to Violet Beauregarde ballooning into a giant blueberry. Her plight in this chocolate fantasy land made more sense to me than anything the real world could offer in that moment.
That’s the thing about books, and certainly about great books, they make sense. They are written to make sense. As for the world around us, that’s anybody’s guess.”
I once tried to write a book when I was twelve. It remains unfinished, banished to the depths of my parent’s garage for the mice to contend with, so I have decided to try again.
Today I have entered the research phase of my newest project, which at the moment I shall call The Beast. This has nothing whatsoever to do with the storyline, but more the general presence of such a venture, as I am sure it’ll prove to be a troublesome little fellow indeed…
I shall be posting every now and again about the nature of The Beast, in the hope that in doing so I create some sort of webasphere pressure, and the words actually get written.
Wish me luck, come and join me if you’re a writer without a cause, or just send me your good vibes, I am going to need them.
Fingers crossed you can even read it one day.
P.S I hope you like my awesome notebook.
P.P.S – I do believe this must qualify for this week’s Daily Post Photo Challenge, as it’s a post filled with optimism… or stupidity, I can’t decide.
Today I am to take my cue from the first word on page 29 of the nearest book, and write a letter inspired by this word. So to Tennessee Williams’ A Streetcar Named Desire I turn, and to the word ‘Chance’.
I saw you lying there, dumped amidst a pile of the unwanted.
Once more you have fooled me. I am repeatedly bribed by your potential, so I persistently give you away, even when I should grip you tight between blood drained fingertips.
For years you have been masquerading – dressing yourself in beautiful gowns that are ill fitting. It is a clever facade, one of trust, of dogma and desire, but in reality you are a mere consequence of these; you are what we stoop to when we are longing for them instead.
I thought I’d spend a lifetime incessantly giving you away, but I shall be more frugal in spending your currency.
Laura Gabrielle Feasey.
Looking forward to sinking my gnashers into the inimitable imagination of Mr Dahl. #100happydays #day91
In a bid to collate my chaotic collection of loose pages I have invested my pretty pennies in a journal of the leather bound kind. One day soon these loose thoughts will have transmogrified into something bookshelf worthy. And what publisher could possibly resist a manuscript written entirely in pink ink? #100happydays #day58
It might look like a chaotic compound of pencilled words on paper, but this is the evolving progress of something possibly great, hopefully entertaining and so help me satan just a touch decipherable. I dare not put a percentage on what possible progress is sprawled on this floor, but it’s more substantial than my pessimistic mind anticipated, ergo, happy thought of the day. Available in hardback in I don’t know how many years time. #100happydays #day34