I hope everyone is very well. I haven’t posted for a few weeks, because I’ve been putting all my writing time, energy, brain power and emotion into finishing the sequel to my historical fiction that imagined a collaboration and friendship between the fictional Donatella and the 17th century composer, Alessandro Stradella: A House Near Luccoli.
I have updated the page on this blog devoted to the sequel and am pleased to announce that:
The writing and (my) editing and revising of
To A Strange Somewhere Fled
No comfort to my wounded sight,
In the Suns busie and imperti’nent light,
Then down I lay my head;
Down on cold earth; and for a while was dead,
And my freed soul to a strange somewhere fled.
(From The Despair by Abraham Cowley, first published 1647)
There is a strange somewhere between endings and beginnings. What seems final is just preparation for what is to come. The changing of the seasons knows and depends on this. Leaves fall and the coldness comes. So does the inclination to sleep through those darker times, perhaps, with a wish to never wake. The light does return – just glimpses at first – to arouse what lives on. There’s warmth, too, slowly nourishing, encouraging and strengthening. And music – the breath, the touch, the heartbeat of Donatella’s story.
Donatella was born of my imagination – also my emotions, thoughts, impulses and encounters. After spending many years with her, she is as actual as anyone in my physical reality. Other writers will understand this phenomenon, I’m sure. For me, as with her, it will never be time to say goodbye.
“There is no real ending. It’s just the place where you stop the story.”
~ Frank Herbert (American author, 1920-1986)
I invite you to read more about To A Strange Somewhere Fled HERE.
My hope is for it to be published
by the end of 2014 or beginning of 2015,
which gives me time to create the cover artwork!
those of you who haven’t yet read – or listened – to
A House Near Luccoli
a gentle reminder that it’s available in Print, Kindle, Audio Book and NOOK Book editions.
I’ve posted the following poem before,
but it fits well with the theme of endings and beginnings.
A winding road
had brought me back
to yellow flags
that grew the sun
out of the rain.
had left them there
like bread and fish
for proof of faith.
Again I paused
and passed them by,
waving me on
©Artwork and writing, unless otherwise indicated, are the property of Diane M Denton. Please request permission to reproduce or post elsewhere with a link back to bardessdmdenton. Thank you.