Post the Fifth: Let's Try Something New...

Things constantly change.  Even when we try to keep them the same, or resist them changing, things change around us.  Even if we're not aware of it, or delude ourselves into believing that everything is static, things change.

Once upon a time (no, this isn't the start to a badly-written fairy tale), twenty years ago when my body was leaner, my hair thicker, my energy seemed to know no limits and the world was one massive exciting playground for me to explore and enjoy, I was all for change.  I hated things staying the same.  I was always the one who pushed for progress, sought ways to upset the status quo (not the band, the axiom) and went looking to mend things that weren't actually broken.

In short, I was a progressive pain in the bum.

Post The Second: When Worlds Collide

Holidays are supposed to be therapeutic.  That's why we take them.  They're a break from routine and a chance to recharge the batteries, both physical and/or mental.  I know that in the modern age that encourages holidays to be taken in exotic destinations that are anywhere that aren't our country of origin thus incurring financial commitments equal to that of a small nation and involving family logistics that make String Theory look simple, physical and mental rejuvenation may seem like a stupid fantasy, but that is what should be at the heart of any genuine holiday.

Holidays are not always this peaceful...
(source: the author)

Unless you like that sort of chaos and stress that is.

It may not have been abroad (not yet at any rate) and there was no family to corral, but I have to admit that I thought my recent Road Trip around Scotland was going to turn into the unbearable stress-fest.  And that was even though I had suggested the original destination that formed the hub of the holiday.

I call it a Road Trip, but that's probably over egging the descriptive pudding.  I went with my best mate of some thirty years and we stayed in a series of locations over the course of the week, but I'm not entirely sure that everybody would class that a Road Trip in the purest sense.

And rather than just touring around aimlessly we ventured north of the Border with a purpose and one particular location in mind.  The rest of it just seemed like a good idea seeing as we'd taken so much trouble to get that far north.

I wanted to visit a remote location I'd used in the latest novel on which I've been working.  The remoteness is intentional. It's central to the plot.  And while researching the general feel of the place hasn't been too difficult - what with the availability of online maps, other people's photos - I find it unsatisfying having to fudge the details.  Yes I can use my imagination, but nothing irritates me more than when a book, film or TV show pretends a location is somewhere it clearly isn't for those who know the real thing, or describes it so vaguely it could be anywhere.

So I wanted to visit the location on a fact-finding mission and my best mate wanted a holiday.  The Road Trip was born.

I've written two novels so far, both currently unpublished and both (strangely) partially set in the West Highlands of Scotland.  It wasn't until my best mate booked the hotels and ran through the itinary with me,  He knew I wanted to be close to the location that features in the second novel, but when he announced that we would be staying in a hotel located in a place mentioned in the first novel.  Not near or in the vicinity.  We were there, in the little town exactly mentioned in the first novel.  He's read it - well heard it, I recorded the whole thing for him as an audio book - but he doesn't remember details.  It's just one of a hundred audio books he's listened to in the last two years.  So it's a minor miracle/major coincidence we ended up there..

But I was there.  For three nights and two whole days, looking out across the Loch that had until that point been a vague, fudged and unsatisfactory detail in my mind.  It was beautiful.  I can imagine some stunning scenery, but it seems my imagination needs an upgrade because this was just mind-blowing.

So unexpectedly one of the many fictional worlds inside my head had collided head-on with the real thing.  It's happened before.  The other half of the second novel is set in London and I've based sections on places I know well like the South Bank.  That's quite cool because I feel like I'm sharing those places with my characters, like sharing a place with good friends.  I expect that. I put them there on purpose, but in Scotland I'd stumbled into their world and it took my breath away.

That wasn't all though.  It happened again when we actually came to trek up the valley that features in the second novel and the main reason why I'd agreed to a 1300 mile lap of the UK.  For a start the weather was outstanding.  I know.  Scotland has a reputation for being cold, wet, grey and inhospitable even in the height of summer, but for me it couldn't have been brighter, sunnier and more accommodating.

We trekked to the abandoned cottage that features in the story through some of the most beautiful landscape I've ever laid eyes upon.  Save for the two of us there wasn't another human being in the whole valley.  It was truly amazing.  As was following in the footsteps of another set of characters.  Sitting in the ruined cottage, gazing at this beautiful valley that my characters will now see with real eyes blew me away.

Two worlds colliding I can handle.  Three in the space of twenty-four hours...that was something a little special.  The experience refocused me, reset my perspective (which had been messed up by stress in the preceding weeks and months) and gave me a fabulous memory to call upon when things seem stressed again.

Oh, and it's also given me a reason to go back sometime...

(source: the author)