I decided to take a day away from my notebook last Friday. It sat quietly folded closed on the kitchen table, but in my mind’s eye, there was a feeling of it glaring at me, asking, “Why wasn’t I playing today?”
I thought it might be relaxing to get out and breathe some fresh air, especially as my husband has been making little jokes here and there about my appearance. It would seem he is tired of seeing my excellent ‘casual wear’ collection (they allegedly look like pajamas but are in my world, casual wear). Apparently, Americans and Brits have different ideas as to what construes as casual wear… and I am rapidly becoming a target for some ‘Howard Hughes” jokes. Therefore, Friday I dressed in jeans, sweater, jacket, “going out clothes”. Proud of me now, huh?
I digress. I had a wonderful afternoon wandering in the village shops, buying food and enjoying an unseasonably warm sunny February day. Every time I thought of writing, I tried to put it to the back of my mind, chastising myself like a small schoolchild. Later, I cooked dinner and spent the evening relaxing, drawn into the wonderful world of Grimm.
Then it hit me today, a mental slap upside the head, Wednesday is coming. It is nearly here! Two days…
What is so special about Wednesday? Before you state the obvious…it is the last day of the month, it is the day I declared in the New Year I would finish the draft of the book. Yes… the book.
Fooled you, I know you were thinking, “Claire has blogged, therefore historical notes for the week” I could tell you it’s a Leap year, or try to confuse you by saying intercalary or bissextile year. That it only comes around every four years and for the next three years I can’t say to anyone “Wow, it’s a year since I finished my draft!” because the day will not exist.
Furthermore, Wednesdays were in fact, named after Wōden. To explain it easily I am going to quote Wikipedia for you “It should be noted at this point that Old Norse had two different words spelled óðr, one an adjective and the other a noun. The adjective means “mad, frantic, furious, violent”, and is cognate with Old English wōdThe noun means “mind, wit, soul, sense” and “song, poetry”, and is cognate with Old English wōþ. In compounds, óð- means “fiercely energetic” (e.g. óð-málugr “speaking violently, excited”). Easy, huh? (My Window’s grammar corrector is having a fit over this!)
The pagans and wiccans believe Mercury the planet is the ruler of Wednesdays. It is a day of text, language and communication. Let us also not forget ‘Wednesday’s child is full of woe’, I hope not!
All of this seems appropriate for my book and I am rather pleased and now very determined to have the draft finished this Wednesday making it feel rather special. As for the words ‘mind, wit, soul and sense’ and “speaking violently, excited” completely fit my story.
It is also a reminder of advice given to me in the past “Make sure your opening paragraph is strong!” Therefore, I lay myself at your feet for total judgment. This is the opening page to my book, ‘The ride to Liberty’ before the Editor takes it to mold and dissect:
Lydia Castle looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror; she couldn’t believe what had just happened to her as she wiped the blood from her neck. She looked down at herself seeing the blood slowly trickle down her long, pale legs. She was in shock, trembling, wondering how it had all come to this moment.
It was a Sunday in August; the sun promised to break through the clouds that floated over Yorkshire, though it rarely managed to and when it did the countryside lit up, like someone turning on a light, drenching the green landscape in a warm golden glow, even the gritty Yorkshire stone buildings of Hoakley seemed to look warm.
Hoakley, an old market town in England, hustled and bustled on a Friday with the local farmers selling their produce of vegetables, stallholders selling cheap shoes and clothing in the small, cobbled market place, with its Victorian clock presiding proudly over it. The town huddled in a valley with a dark, but sparkling river coursing its way through the center of it, where small rowing boats moored up, for the tourists who came every year, thinking the small town quaint.
A place you could easily leave to return years later to find nothing had changed, except that useful shops, like the butchers and grocers had become yet another charity shop. The people you knew had grown older and dismal, looking more like the buildings they inhabited, gray, and slightly depressing, not a town, where the word “fun” would spring to mind. People meeting to drink as a social and community evening in its many pubs was the usual idea of a ‘good evening’.”
Having spent time trying to ‘make it strong’, grammatically correct and to avoid using ‘passive grammar’ I welcome all comments, ideas and thoughts, good, bad and indifferent.
I will post all corrections once the words, clarified, renewed and invigorated by an editor are back in my possession. It is always interesting to compare the before and after’s, like a makeover show on Bravo.
My week will be spent in ‘casual wear’ in front of this screen determined to meet the deadline I have set for myself, ignoring the Oscars, recording favorite shows for when I am finished. However I wish you a fantastic week, full of adventures and promising new ideas and when you do, I hope you will share them with me.