…often go awry!
And my longed for research staycation to the Northumberland coast has not been spared. ISBN 9780995772144 (the catchy title of my new work in progress) is now’t but a tumble of books with nowhere to go!
Now what? I ask myself.
My Gran often said to me, “Now then pet, stop looking on the black side, be a big girl and make the best of a bad job.” Which makes me think I must have been a cry-baby kid, considering the number of times she said it.
But let me tell you. I can be demented for a full minute then it is straight to plan B.
I had a reason to go to the place in Northumberland. To have a few words with my ancestors, recall some memories from childhood and bash them all together in my head to become my next story.
Not only that but freaky things were starting to happen, I would tell you about them but then I wouldn’t have enough to keep you interested in future updates – seeing as though I’m not going anywhere.
I have to admit there is an added factor in my speedy move to plan B. I don’t want to get, give, or be involved in any way with Covid and the likelihood of that distraction happening in my office is probably nil.
Oh well, go on then I’ll tell you one freaky episode now…
…Right. See that house? It’s the foundation for my story, in the most recent time period anyway. I always knew that. So off I trot around the internet to find a map. By the way, I’m rubbish at finding anything I need on the internet but this time the weirdest thing happened. I typed half the street name into the browser and quick as a flash this house plopped on the screen. The flipping actual subject matter would you believe! The house in front of me, displayed by an estate agency, belonged to my family and the main characters in my story to be. I looked at it. Then I looked at the telephone number and to my great relief my conscience wasn’t present when I spoke to the sales assistant and made an appointment to visit – well view, in agency speak! I lied, said I was moving to the area. Appointment, 11.00 Monday. First day’s research activity pencilled in. Of course I don’t have to go through with it now all is cancelled but would I have done it? Not if my conscience turned up on the doorstep. Either doorstep actually because the house is two flats…
… where once upon a time a young family lived in the top flat and the parents below until eventually the arrangement changed and when the parents moved out, the family moved down and on it went throughout the years…
But I swear I don’t believe in anything like fate because all happenings are just coincidences. Though I do like to speculate and what if now and then. What if I knocked on the door – and told the truth?
Oh well, these bags and books are looking at me, I suppose I’d better unpack.