You know, when you go to write the ‘homepage’ of your website, the homage of yourself and the light you want to shine in the world, – you can’t just pluck it out of thin air, – right? Or can you?
As a memoirist, I would love to write fiction, to spin my stories into ancient times of myths and fairytales, of deities and gods more powerful than any world-leaders I’ve seen. Sometimes softly spoken though mostly raging against some foreign enemy, like the rising tide of the Nile. – Ohhhh, I feel the creative juices bubbling over the top of my imagination cauldron by the pure imagery of it all.
I think I made a mistake when I promised myself I would finish my memoir before I started a new story.
I light a candle, defusing healing incense into the space around me, and settle with my writing. It feels like I’ve been gone forever. I’ve been busy, things needed doing. A Nile Holiday, a video course, parties to go to, friends to meet, a blog to write, tenant turnover in Ireland, and figuring out (baby steps) how to best manage my fathers’ estate in Norway.
As you may know, my Dad died in July and I went to Norway for his . . . . . . . – no, I didn’t just go for the funeral or to bury him, I went to find him or to find something I’ve lost. And I did. I write about it in Speak #TRUTH Lies.
‘The Captain’s Island,’ stands out as a good contender for the first chapter of the book. It starts as I arrive at his island on the ferry. My brother, Ruby and I had been driving all day from Ålesund. It was hot and the sea breeze felt cooling.
I hadn’t seen Dad in 14 years, which was the last time I visited Atløy, the island where he lived for 17 years.