S. McPherson's Blog: On my way to being a writer - Posts Tagged "romance"

My first attempt at something different was to start a blog but I didn't really know what to write about. One of my ideas was a blog of original quotes so I gave it a try:



'I sometimes think that love is like magic; beautiful to believe in but impossible to know if it really exists.' - S. McPherson



'Sticks and stones may break my bones and one day they will heal, but words you say will stay with me and forever make me feel.' - S. McPherson



'Without hope, we are without reason.' - S. McPherson



'Experience the world from as many different angles as you can. See it through as many different eyes.' - S. McPherson



'You can only look at what's on the outside for so long, then you need to start looking within.' - S. McPherson



'A world without laughter would be unbearable.' -S. McPherson



'When you reach a fork in the road, simply close your eyes and point.' - S.McPherson



'Without passion, we are without purpose.' - S. McPherson

For a while my original quotes blog was fun but I didn't get much further than that.

Unruly waves fling themselves at my ship. Rain barrels down from the sky and lightning meets the sea in a jagged electric blaze. The harsh slap of the wind stings my lips and smothers them in liquid salt. I watch the wheel spin; veering this way and that. Somewhere along my travels, I have taken the wrong course.

Scrabbling in my pocket, I pull out my compass and realise that the arrow is pointing North, away from the storm and towards my first true love; novels. It is time to go back.

‘Land ho!’ I cry as I steer the boat in another direction.

It isn’t long before I am carried away on the current of my imagination. Diving in and out of waves of fantasy; words flooding my mind like the tumultuous crests of high tide on the shore.

Forever a hopeless romantic and a vivid dreamer of the unbelievable, my route is clear. There is only one channel for my tale to take; a fantasy romance one. I stand on the mast of my stories ship, telescope in hand. Perhaps on the lookout for a romance I can never find; I start to invent one.

And so my voyage begins again…

There is something inexplicably romantic about a perfect imperfection; something that is so wrong it is somehow equally so fitting. ‘The Faults in our Stars’ had a tumour take the life of a seemingly perfect romance. ‘Romeo and Juliet’ let a name tarnish the blade of their swords. ‘Titanic’ had its iceberg, ‘Pride and Prejudice’ had incompatible personalities that could surely never make it and 'Twilight' had its fangs. So what is it about these imperfections that we, the audience, devour? Is it perhaps because just for a moment it allows us to hope that love can conquer all; and that even in death, love is lasting?

Either way, many of our greatest love stories include one very large imperfection; one impossibly giant hurdle that the audience so desperately want the lovers to overcome.

In my story, I chose distance. I introduce Dezaray, the heroine, living an unwanted life in a little English city called Islon, so desperately in need of an escape. And then we meet Milo, the hero, a further escape than Dezaray can possibly imagine. He introduces her to freedom, to love, to another life in another world…Perfect. However, Dezaray doesn’t belong in his world and it is only a matter of time before she has to go back…thus tangles the web of perfect imperfection. They say love can cross oceans but can it cross worlds?

After defining my perfect imperfection I open up to that blank page and my fingers stretch across the keyboard. The words pour out of me like water from a faucet; tumbling down and drenching the page in sentences I never knew I wanted to say. I let the characters take me to where they want; their personalities steering the story to its apparent end.

The beating of their wayward hearts becomes the tempo my story follows. The continuous shift in their ever-changing moods brings to life the melody. And every interaction between the lovers; hushed whispers and gentle grazes, becomes a lyric. After I’m done with the first draft, I move on to the next and the next and the next.

My aim: To write a story that feels like a love song; just as powerful, just as memorable; just longer.

Innocence lost

My innocence betrothed another, many years ago,

I tried to be its mistress but it left me in the snow.

'Let me in, old friend.' I pounded on the door,

Innocence replied, 'You can't stay here anymore,

Your body may be young but your eyes have made you old,

You no longer believe that life is butterflies and gold.

Take what you have learnt my dear,

Take the truths you know.

No longer remain buried in the wreck beneath the snow.

You have outgrown my wonder, but one day you will see,

that other wonder waits for you,

as long as you believe.'

This was another blog untold. A poetry blog I toyed with in the hopes of gaining a following. 'Innocence' was an unfinished poem I had written shortly after my sister died and now; with a more positive eye, seemed like a good time to finish it. But then I realised the followers I want, don't have to like poetry; they have to like romance and lots and lots of fantasy; just like what's in my book; At Water's Edge