Skip to main content

Urban Fantasies

The word count for Bethany Rose now stands at 11,000 words. Only 89,000 to go. No! Don't think of that!! Today's tally was 2,000. It was 3pm before I realised I'd forgotten to have lunch.

Did I mention that I'd begun writing the new version of BR? Anyway, it began to appear on my puuter screen on January 16th. I hadn't intended to spend that evening working but TV was as boring as it usually is, and while busy washing dinner dishes the start of the novel came to me. My fingers started itching, and so it began.

Do your fingers itch, literally burn and itch, when you've got a tasty idea demanding to be written or painted or photographed?

I find myself pulling odd facial expressions as the images of the idea flows through my mind. It's like watching a cinema screen in 3D inside my head. Who needs a remote control zapper when with a flick of Will you can rewind, rewrite, bring details up closer or move away as the story bursts into life internally? Then the finger-itching starts.

A literary agent, having read a synopsis for Tamsin and Rowan, recommended that I include the genre label of Urban Fantasy in descriptions of my work. Hmm... Well the novels (and some of my shorties) are set in Wirral and Liverpool, so I guess that makes 'em urban. And they do have beings from folklore included, plus a splash of metaphysics and a dash of magic (not the Potter variety), so that's firmly within the Fantasy genre.

On the other hand, the term Urban Fantasy makes me think of bored housewives daydreaming whilst pushing shopping trolleys round a supermarket, or gazing longingly out of lounge windows in the hope of seeing some impossibly gorgeous guy strolling up the drive with flowers and champagne.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Cure for Aging?

"All that we profess to do is but this, - to find out the secrets of the human frame; to know why the parts ossify and the blood stagnates, and to apply continual preventatives to the effort of time.  This is not magic; it is the art of medicine rightly understood.  In our order we hold most noble -, first, that knowledge which elevates the intellect; secondly, that which preserves the body.  But the mere art (extracted from the juices and simples) which recruits the animal vigour and arrests the progress of decay, or that more noble secret which I will only hint to thee at present, by which heat or calorific, as ye call it, being, as Heraclitus wisely taught, the primordial principle of life, can be made its perpectual renovator...." Zanoni, book IV, chapter II, by Edward Bulwer-Lytton, first published in 1842. Oroboros keyring - Spooky Cute Designs The idea of being able to achieve an immortal life is probably as old as human life itself.  Folklore and myt...

Remembering Richie Tattoo Artist's Studio

Richard in the street entrance to his tattoo studio in Liverpool. The vertical sign next to Richard is now in the Liverpool Tattoo Museum. Yesterday, my sister Evelyn, Richard and myself stood outside Richard's old tattoo studio and looked up at the few remaining signs, whose paint has now mostly flacked away to reveal bare wood. On the studio's window are stick-on letters which read, "Art", where once it boldly announced his presence as the city's only "Tattoo Artist".  I can remember him buying that simple plastic lettering from an old-fashioned printer's shop. This was in 1993, not long after he'd opened the studio and before he could afford better signs. After he'd patiently stuck them onto the glass we realised that from the outside the sign read "Artist Tattoo", so we had to carefully peel the letters off the window and have another go, laughing over having made such an obvious error yet worried in case we spoiled the letteri...

Falling Trees and Blue Portraits

Birkenhead Park Visitor Centre, 7th April 2019, by Adele Cosgrove-Bray. My ongoing series of sketches in the park continues unabated, as is evident. On a few recent sketches I've added some simple washes of watercolour to bring another dimension to the scenes. I've long grown accustomed to sketching in public, and the few people who've passed any comment have always been encouraging. I've even unintentionally captured a tiny bit of park history:- I drew this lovely arching tree in February this year, and since then its own weight has pulled its roots out from the ground. Probably due to safety concerns, it has been brutally cut back so it's now little more than a stump, and the horizontal section, with all its vertical branches, has been removed. Hopefully the tree will survive this harsh treatment. "How can walkies please, when every step's a wheeze?" by Adele Cosgrove-Bray. Portrait by Adele Cosgrove-Bray; chalk and charcoal...