Dear Don,
Sorry about the inbox… I don’t think it should be too bad this time. I didn’t think it would be a great idea to completely fill it while you’ve been unwell. Hope you are back on your feet and feeling better now.
The Devil’s Rock stuff for Doomsday got a bit out of hand… I hadn’t intended writing that much, but I could see it all so clearly. As soon as I sat down at the keyboard it all started pouring out. I could feel it too. The whole journey from the zodiac stones to the Place of Dreaming. Not as bad as the Telling Stone, thank goodness… but I could almost smell the smoke and taste the fear.
The Telling Stone at the circle… well, you were there. You know how badly that went… I’m still not sure how I got the car to the pub for dinner…
The research for the Mercian chapters was interesting. I hardly dare mention how much was tied up with Peterborough Cathedral, Ely and then, of course, the Holy Island and Whitby connections are very prominent. Funny that I should have finally got to Lindisfarne just a few weeks ago… after so many years of trying to visit Holy Island. Now St Aidan and the island keep cropping up in the histories, and lots of strands are coming together. I should have known really.
The Woden thing, now that’s interesting… reading through Bede’s Historia I bet he would turn in his venerable grave to see the conclusions I’m coming to. One of the twelve sons of the twelfth generation from Woden, was our King Penda according to some sources. Though others seem to think some were just trying to claim a divine right of kingship through that line of descent. I have a feeling your theory might hold water… Then there is the whole reasoning behind why Oswiu of Northumbria was wary of fighting him. You’ll like how he died though…
I tell you, the kingdom of Mercia is taking on a whole new look…
Oh, on a slightly different subject, you might also like to know that the dog is getting ideas… this hide and seek business the two of you came up with for Giants Dance is getting a bit out of hand. The tennis balls are now being properly hidden and I am expected to find and fetch… I’m fairly certain there is something intrinsically wrong there… You might want to have a word next time you’re down…
Looking forward to reading the next instalment of Doomsday with my coffee in the morning… you’ll hear the hopeful tone there? Looking forward to the weekend too.
See you soon,
Wen x
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France & Vincent 
‘The dog’ will take any opportunity to exercise her human. 😀
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’tis true, ’tis all too true… 😉
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A very surreal writing. It felt like being dropped into a one-sided conversation–out of place and time with my world’s existence. Was it a factual retelling of someone’s daily journey or a historical fiction? A revisitation of a time that never was but might have been? And how did Oswiu of Northumbria die? Must go Google that.
Good luck on finding the tennis balls. I’m sorry, but I suspect you’ve been too well trained not to at this point. Also, you wouldn’t want to disappoint your dog.
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This is part of an ongoing exchange of ideas between ‘Don’ and ‘Wen’, characters in our books whose journey runs in close parallel to our own.
As to the tennis balls… we are very well trained 😉
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It is rather wonderful when it all pours out of you.
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Reblogged this on Stuart France.
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