For the last three weeks, I've been doing so much traveling and scrambling and financial finagling and time zone changing, it's taken me until today to begin to even understand where I am or how I got here. And it's not over; next week I'm in Oakland and the week after that, Indianapolis...well, a town outside that city. Whoever said this summer was going to be quiet put a hex on it.
But...I did get to see some places I never would have. And I hurt my right knee, not to mention pissing off my feet, by walking so damn much. It's still achy and I can't sit for long periods without getting up to stretch it out, but I did manage to lose 5 lbs this trip.
And I got to see York, epitomized by their Minster Cathedral, with its magnificent stained glass windows. But here's the fun part -- every church in the city has amazing stained glass windows. Apparently, this was a major center for that and they still have workshops for making them.
Then after a nearly 3 hour train ride there was Whitby Abbey, where Dracula came ashore and took Lucy as his first UK victim.
The ruins are on top of a hill overlooking Whitby and more than make up for the tackiness of the town. 199 steps up to a view that was almost as magnificent as the Cliffs of Moher. I could see why Bram Stoker used it for his location. Of course, it wasn't till I'd headed back to York that I heard Whitby is also famous for its fish & chips. Dammit; I was hungry for some.
I also did Jarvik, the Viking colony in the middle of York. It was flooded out a couple years back when the River Ouse had one of her annual fits, so what I saw was all new and fascinating. A day in the life of a Viking village from 1000 years ago.
But then, I also got screwed over by 2 of 3 Hilton hotels I was staying in, something I'm still trying to sort out. I only stayed there because Mary Jane is an honors member and gets points, but they were supposed to be paid for on her credit card and the M-Fkers wouldn't do it. I had to use my own and I'm not sure I got the same deal on the rate, or that she got the points. I'll have to check that, on Monday.
What was worse was, I got very little done on Place of Safety. You'd think during a 10 day trip to the UK I'd have had time to just sit and think. Instead, all I got was a few notes and a slight reworking of a section I'd already written but had a new idea for. Still, that little bit of space let me contemplate aspects of the story...and I could see I was slipping into a too one-sided vision of a few people.
Like Brendan's father. He's a violent, selfish brute...and that is way too black and white for this to work. I mean, it's somewhat understandable because Brendan's ten when the man is killed, so he does see things in more simplistic terms. But he's not incapable of realizing there was more to the man than just his drinking and his fists...and I was ignoring that aspect of him.
I want people in my book, not characters.
But...I did get to see some places I never would have. And I hurt my right knee, not to mention pissing off my feet, by walking so damn much. It's still achy and I can't sit for long periods without getting up to stretch it out, but I did manage to lose 5 lbs this trip.
The ruins are on top of a hill overlooking Whitby and more than make up for the tackiness of the town. 199 steps up to a view that was almost as magnificent as the Cliffs of Moher. I could see why Bram Stoker used it for his location. Of course, it wasn't till I'd headed back to York that I heard Whitby is also famous for its fish & chips. Dammit; I was hungry for some.
But then, I also got screwed over by 2 of 3 Hilton hotels I was staying in, something I'm still trying to sort out. I only stayed there because Mary Jane is an honors member and gets points, but they were supposed to be paid for on her credit card and the M-Fkers wouldn't do it. I had to use my own and I'm not sure I got the same deal on the rate, or that she got the points. I'll have to check that, on Monday.
What was worse was, I got very little done on Place of Safety. You'd think during a 10 day trip to the UK I'd have had time to just sit and think. Instead, all I got was a few notes and a slight reworking of a section I'd already written but had a new idea for. Still, that little bit of space let me contemplate aspects of the story...and I could see I was slipping into a too one-sided vision of a few people.
Like Brendan's father. He's a violent, selfish brute...and that is way too black and white for this to work. I mean, it's somewhat understandable because Brendan's ten when the man is killed, so he does see things in more simplistic terms. But he's not incapable of realizing there was more to the man than just his drinking and his fists...and I was ignoring that aspect of him.
I want people in my book, not characters.
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