The Cygnet and the Firebird...

I finished reading this book (by Patricia A. McKillip) a few days ago and I’m having a hard time letting it go. I can tell because days have passed and I still don’t have the heart to start a new book; I find myself holding on to the remnants of the story, of the characters that found a secret way into my bones when I wasn’t looking and now refuse to let me move on. Not yet, they seem to whisper, Let us settle down between your cells before you begin filling them with new worlds…

So I’m going to let them. I owe them that much.

Do you know the feeling when you start reading a new book before the membrane of the last one has had time to close behind you? You leave the previous book with ideas and themes—characters even—caught in the fibers of your clothes, and when you open the new book, they are still with you.

—	The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield

My muse...

I finally finished reading “The Bards of Bone Plain” by Patricia A. McKillip. Seriously, this woman… I kept having to stop reading at one or other line or paragraph and just marvel at her skill and how she masters the art of painting pictures with her words that touch the soul. And she never failed to inspire me, my muse, and make me write.

So, I decided that even though I have books by Charles de Lint and Diana Wynne Jones waiting for me to read them, I will read yet another of her books because I need the inspiration.

This time it’s the turn of “Cygnet”, a compilation of two of her novels: The Sorceress and the Cygnet and The Cygnet and the Firebird. I have only read the first sentence of the book and I’m already trapped: He was a child of the horned moon.

 Anyway, more writing and less blogging.