Continuing from last week's post which explored Artwork as Inspiration (the starting point for Proof of the Old Faith ) I'm sticking with Norse culture. Here is The Weave of the Norns , a poem I wrote a few years ago about these three frightening women. Enjoy! The Norns by Arthur Rackham Weave of the Norns Beneath the threat of utter doom he sought them at their fabled loom. The king searched on until he found them on the morrow’s battleground. The tallest worked the wheel alone; the next, a shuttle made of bone; the shortest bore a silver sword with which she severed each loose cord. What pattern spun these women three, dictating mankind’s victory! “I come to beg you demonstrate a gentle weaving of our fate.” “Then know you this, oh man of peace, we weave the thread and cannot cease.” “Weave us an ending to this war and grant us threads of peace once more.” “What cost would such a wise man pay for us to change our weave this way?” And now he saw the bloody thread, time’s fabr
Last Christmas (no, don't worry, I'm not about to burst into song!) one of my sisters got me a box file. Inside it, were a number of artefacts linking back to - or around - the year 1863, including letters, a death card, a penny and several other things. On the box was written the challenge:
This was a very different way of writing. In the past, I had collected things which linked in with my story ideas or completed books. Now, the challenge was to start with the objects and built up from there. And what a mixed box of goodies it was!
Included in the box was this letter from the esteemed polymath, Henry Thompson, to his daughter. It showed a very different side of him to the one you read about. This was an opportunity too good to waste, so Henry Thompson appeared in the novel as one of the only "real life" people.
Another was a lace collar which begat this excerpt from Ann Adler [whose character was inspired from the mirror in last fortnight's blog!]:
Collecting a second sheet of paper, she gave a girlish smile. She set it on the slope and rolled the pen backward and forward between her fingers as she tried to decide how to open this letter.
"My dearest Timothy," she muttered, trying to hold back the excitement of this secret correspondence with this unknown gentleman. In this, she was unsuccessful, and her pen glided across the page with such haste she could scarcely keep up with it. "I have been in Brussels for several weeks now. I confess, I had hoped I might finally make your acquaintance, and to such an end I am daring to share my address with you. Belgium I find to be a quaint place, so little and yet so unique as they strive to establish their own kingdom. By far my favourite distraction has been in admiration of the beautiful lace and I must own to having already purchased a collar for myself. Were I a better seamstress, I would have attached it at once to my gown, but have commissioned this to a dressmaker on Rue de Dam. You can be in no doubt, my dear Timothy, of my desire to finally make your acquaintance, and it is my sincere hope that I might assist you in your need to resolve financial and business difficulties. Though I may be a lady, I have an astute knowledge of the gentleman's world, and I have chosen to lay this before you. I remain your humble admirer and devoted servant. Ann."
She lifted the paper, tilting it towards the window where the sunlight was beginning to penetrate, and read through the epistle. She had no blotting paper and did not wish to waste her writing stationary, so shook the letter dry.
This box of bits and bobs was a perfect Christmas present and, if you're stuck with what to get for an historical fiction writer, consider putting one of these together! Here are a few of the other bits and pieces which were contained in the box file:
Wow, it's things like this that make me really wish I had siblings!! That's such a thoughtful and thought-provoking gift, I love it 😍😍
ReplyDeleteYes, they have their moments!!!
Delete😉