Last week was one of those weeks where you were never quite sure which day it was thanks to the public holiday on Thursday (24 September is Heritage Day in South Africa). It may also be the heat – it feels like instant-sunburn-weather already. From this week all should be back to normal, however. Well, until the madness of NaNoWriMo starts!
In honour of Heritage Day, I wrote two articles which were published along with one about the health benefits of laughter – definitely something we need more of in the world! Here are the links to the articles:
On these pages (you can also find them at the top of the blog) you can read other articles I’ve written as well as read some of my published fiction.
Future Posts on Hersenskim
With NaNoWriMo drawing ever nearer I am starting my preparation for the big undertaking. I’ll continue with Worldbuilding Wednesday (Part 2 of the Winged Creatures in Myth and Folklore posts will be posted this Wednesday [Read part 1 here]), but I will also show how my prep for NaNoWriMo is going and what I’m doing differently from last year in the coming weeks.
I have started a NaNoWriMo Pinterest board and there are a few pins on there already, if you would like to go and have a look and follow it. The flash story “Life on Canvas” I wrote a few weeks ago takes place in the same world as the novel which I will be working on in November. (The bunch of tapestries on the board will also make more sense after you’ve read the story.) I’ll be adding more and more pics and links as I go along, so it won’t all be embroidery and tapestries!
Life on Canvas
Her face was painted gold, her eyes hard and dark as coal. Lifeless upon the canvas, she stared out unseeing at the workshop. Her artist started adding more flourishes with his finest needle and silk. Jarl traced filigree with threads the colour of rubies, emeralds, and the finest silver. Sapphire strands lay ready to colour her eyes, but the artist did not pick that up yet. The eyes came last. He always brought the canvas to life that way.
The workshop fell quiet as their patron entered. The artist looked around and continued on while the patron inspected a finished tapestry against the far wall. It showed his son on the battlefield raising the banner bearing the family crest.
“It looks just like him!” the patron exclaimed. “It even smiles just like he did!” The man reached out to touch the threads, but the picture kept on changing as before.
“It will not respond like the living would,” one of the artists said.
Jarl sat back and regarded his work. Though unmoving, she did look alive but for the eyes. Those eyes that once regarded him with love.
“You capture my daughter well, artist,” the patron said. He never did bother learning names. She had always called him Jarl. Never sir Tellah or artist Tellah. If he closed his eyes he could still feel her lips on his.
Jarl nodded, not trusting his own voice.
“I am sure her new husband will like it as well. Will you be finished in time for their wedding tomorrow?”
Jarl nodded and picked up the blue thread while his eyes burned with tears. He had to remember her eyes when she was happy and in love. Not the way they looked on the day she had to say goodbye.