The Voices in the Garden: an introduction

 The Voices in the Garden was the first story I wrote. Entirely autobiographical, I began it when I was suffering from a deep depression and had taken almost a year off work. Like tendrils, the other stories spiralled from it.  I wasn't going to share it. In truth, although it is the most personal, it is also the weakest in many ways. The Swarthy Rogue, were he still around, would undoubtedly claim that 'nowt happens' that 'there's no narrative arc.' (Those were his frequent complaints about my blog.) I guess both those accusations are equally applicable to my life: a rather flattened narrative arc, quiet and uninteresting. Nowt happens. Repeatedly. But, I am no longer swayed by the gruff, sardonic musings of a flaky, middle-aged window salesman. You may make up your own mind about it.

Anyway, I have a week of home-learning behind me, which is frankly exhausting. I am spending my Sunday listing dresses I am now to plump to wear on EBAY and watching The Stand. I may have a glass of ginger wine later - such is the giddy hedonism of my life. 

I'd love my stories to be published, properly, but have no idea how to go about it. But thank you to everyone who read and commented. Each comment made me smile. I have an idea for another story in the series. It is whispering to me. It is inspired by this rather wonderful 17th century manor house called Horden Hall which stands proudly by the North Sea in between two very humble pit villages. I'd like to bring Nell back (my favourite character from Lost).  I'm not quite done with her yet. Maybe Winter too. 

The Voices in the Garden: Part 1 will follow tomorrow.