|Real Life - Breckenridge, Winter|
|Book Life - Frenchman's Creek, Summer|
Greetings! Apologies for the lateness of this blogpost. I could blame it on the fact that I am now The Heroine Addict who is the furthest west. I could blame it on my lack of internet, except it got sorted out this morning. I could but I won’t.
Instead I am putting it down to my head being pulled in two very different directions.
I’m currently working on a YA novel set during two summers in Cornwall. Wonderful I hear you say, nothing is more lovely than a Cornish summer and I agree with you. The only problem I have is that I am thousands of miles away in a ski resort up to my neck in snow.
It is causing a split in my personality. I stare at my laptop and the words conjuror up dark green trees, grey water, blue skies and twisted folk tales. I look up and out the window. It is snow and icicles, blue skies or blizzards, Native American tales and moose on the trails. What is a writer to do?
I’m thinking of stocking up on cider to see if that helps get me in the mood… all for research purposes, you understand.
How do you deal with the conundrum?