Writing..

I loved writing the Letters to my Sister story and putting it up here. I had started to write it about 3 years ago and it was just sitting in one of my many notebooks, sad and unread. It was a great exercise to bring all the random letters, notes and thoughts together and create something coherent out of it. And even more gratifying to see that people liked it 🙂

I have so many short stories started and not finished, so many scribbles on scraps of paper stuffed in between the pages of notebooks, so many random ideas for themes and characters. Sometimes I just get a line in my head that I think is really cool sounding so I’ll jot it down somewhere, and it will end up being part of or even defining an entire story.

Letters to my Sister was started on a bus to Dublin 3 years ago. I had a few scraps of paper and a biro and was staring out the window bored. Some elderly people got onto the bus in the middle of nowhere and got off again at the next town near the post office. It made me think of letters and writing them and who writes letters anymore. I got an image of a grand old lady sitting in her manor at a beautiful ornate writing desk, writing letters to her friends and family. Then I just started writing some of the letters she might compose and it grew from there. I’m happy with the outcome and may add to it in time; after all the nurses only read a tiny fraction of the letters that Jane had written.

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