It was one of those days when my surroundings became my setting.
The sun was strong but the humidity was low (just my kind of day) and the wind carried the lake on it. The linden trees were in full bloom, and chamomile was everywhere!
Suddenly, I was my MC. I was sitting in her backyard, not mine. (I immediately ran to get my laptop).
A linden harvest was created, and in order to do this I needed to do research. I was amazed at the recounts I came across, of gypsies, massive treks, staving off pistol-firing farmers, and docile drunk bees…all to collect the linden bloom for tea. I heard of soldiers chewing on the bark of the tree to keep starvation at bay, and finally making flour from it – I had no idea (I also learnt that linden tea is an old school therapy for getting restless children to sleep – woohoo! Can’t wait to try this one:).
A whole new novel could have been born from these tales, but the role of the linden was just a small one in my story. I find it fascinating how our stories can get carried away, leading everywhere and anywhere if we did not guide it.
The question I leave you with this weekend is, when you write, do you know where you are going and how you will get there?
The wild and windy night
That the rain washed away
Has left a pool of tears
Crying for the day
Why leave me standing here
Let me know the way
Beatles, of course