Sand castles and rock pools: first draft, second novel - taking the clifftop path towards "Cloudhover Solstice"

Scouting out "Cloudhover Solstice" locations: Flamborough Head 17th century Old Chalk Beacon Tower 

The first draft of "Cloudhover Solstice" feels to me a bit like a deliciously playful sand castle on the edge of a rockpool of rippling possibilities, hidden depths. The capricious tides of ideas and words are ebbing and flowing, filling things in, knocking bits down, smoothing jutting edges, revealing scary fissures beneath the surface, the story sculpted by sea frets as the wind veers around the compass of plot and pacing.

I'm back from my eagerly-anticipated research reconnaissance trip to fairest Flamborough, the setting for the novel, from the chalk cliffs and caves to the haunting hidden hollows of ancient Danes Dyke, cutting off the headland from the rest of these islands, leaving it pointing mysteriously out towards vanished Doggerland off the coast of Holderness.

Selwick Stack, Selwick's Bay, Flamborough Head

I took the opportunity of drinking in every detail, smelling the scents of the sea, tasting the bite of the onshore breezes, listening to the rhythms and colours of the seabirds' crying, so integral to my tale. I stood in Bram's shoes as he hears the unsettling call of the Kittiwakes over the water, stood with Thirza as she teeters, conflicted and determined on the edge of the crumbling cliff. I wandered along the beaches of North and South Landing, watching through the filter of imagination all the local sights and sounds that are the background to my evolving narrative.

Kittiwakes, High Stacks, Flamborough

Cave arch, North Landing, Flamborough

I took photographs and emotional mental snapshots, too, of those dominant sentinels of the headland, the 1806 Lighthouse and the Old Beacon Tower, built in chalk in the seventeen century. They must play their part, with their own tales interweaving into the lives of my characters and impacting on their fictional journey.

I took panorama sweeps to judge distances between landmarks, from Filey Brigg in the north, to Bridlington to the south. I explored Chatterthrow, formerly "Chattertrove" beyond Little Thornwick Bay, named for the racket made by the seabirds that thronged the cliffs as they nested, before humankind impacted their paradise, a central theme in my book.

Flamborough panorama from Chatterthrow back towards the Lighthouse

Flamborough did me good, as it always does, not only as a writer, but as a human being. Chronic illness has meant four years of not being able to manage a holiday, and Flamborough has haunted my dreams with glimpses of joy throughout those life-limiting days. Flamborough more than made up for it. Flamborough wouldn't know how to disappoint me if it tried!

Flamborough Head Lighthouse

So the chipping and carving at the sand castle goes on, as "Cloudhover Solstice" takes its own unique shape under my scribbling fingers, recreating and restoring me along the way. I hope when it's ready to reveal itself to the world, you will enjoy reading it and that you'll be enchanted too by this magical place!

Danes Dyke Beach, Flamborough

"CLOUDHOVER SOLSTICE" - the tide is about to turn...

It's been four heart-yearning years since my health let me off the leash with enough energy to let me anywhere near fantabulous fair Flamborough, one of my favourite spots on the planet.

But this year, come gannets, guillemots, gust or gale, I'm going back to stay awhile.

This summer, armed with the first draft, plot outlines, character studies, orphaned scenes, midnight notes, scribbles, dreams and delirious delight, I'm heading back to the headland, the heartland of the East Yorkshire coast.

I'm off to reimagine those chalk cliffs, beloved from childhood, to plumb the landscape for its secret drama, its lighthouse and beacon, its hidden sea caves, stacks and scars, the Kittiwakes crying over the ocean ledges, the spray flinging itself against those craggy gorges and rockpools. I'm going to revisit it all through the eyes of my characters, Thirza, Bram and their friends and foes old and new.

Is that Piper I hear barking from South Landing?

"Cloudhover Solstice" is coming. The tide is slowly turning, dragging all that's familiar beneath the swilkering foam.

In the spirit of serendipity, my arrival on the East Coast coincides with this year's Summer Solstice, with the full Moon poised to shine down on the shimmering North Sea (if the forecast clouds, sea frets and mists deign to clear her a path over Holderness!)

Wishing calm seas and joyful summer voyages of imagination to all my lovely readers!

My first novel "Goatsucker Harvest" is available for Kindle and in Paperback here.
For news of my authorial shenanigans, and for updates on my progress with the sequel, "Cloudhover Solstice," you can always like my Author Page on Facebook or follow me on Twitter or Goodreads.

If you've enjoyed my writing, please would you take a moment to leave me a quick review on Amazon or Goodreads to let others know and spread the word? Thank you so much!

South Landing at Flamborough nominated for BBC Countryfile Magazine's Beach of the Year

Wonderful news that this beautiful hidden treasure of the Yorkshire Coast has been nominated as Best Beach of the Year!

If you want funfairs, sticks of rock, crowds, donkey rides and noise, this gorgeous spot isn't ever going to be your cup of sea.

For those of us who love the sound of the ocean, the cry of seabirds, chalk cliffs meeting the waves and sweet seaside solitude, for me at least, it just cannot be beaten.

Still time to vote in all categories here till 31st January 2016: BBC Countryfile Magazine Awards 2015/16

Here's some more views  of Flamborough's South Landing I took in June 2012:

Flamborough Cliff Climbers: Historical Human Cliffhangers in my Work in Progress

The Flamborough "climmers" (climbers) or egg collectors, seen in this Yorkshire Film Archive footage from 1908, YORKSHIRE FILM ARCHIVE: THE EGG HARVEST - CLIFF CLIMBING AT FLAMBOROUGH (1908) are integral to the action of my WIP "Cloudhover Solstice" set in the 1850s. Thirza and Bram on their keel "Thistle" find themselves swept off course, caught up in a maritime nightmare where seabirds face daily peril from gangs of tourists with guns and locals who harvest their eggs for profit and their feathers for fashion.

What hidden dangers haunt the East Coast chalk cliffs and caves? Beached and stranded, Thirza and Bram strive against the odds, risking everything to uncover what makes the Kittiwakes cry and turn the tide of creeping commercialism and vested interests towards care and conservation of our fragile coastline. This quest will challenge Bram's ancestral skills as a wildlife whisperer, his inventive ingenuity and compassion, not to mention his unsteady sea legs to the limit, as well as plunging the feisty and fearless Thirza literally over the edge.

Warning: We wildlife lovers may find distressing the sight of one climmer near the end of this short film, staging a mock 'fight' between a captured Guillemot and Puffin. It is historical scenes like this that motivate Thirza and Bram in the struggle to 'reverse the ravage' caused by humankind and to champion these voiceless and vulnerable creatures.

Watch for future updates about "Cloudhover Solstice" and meanwhile don't miss my first novel featuring Thirza and Bram in the heartstopping historical fantasy "Goatsucker Harvest" on Amazon in paperback and ebook.

Thanks so much for stopping by!

Seagulls are aggressive: DO NOT FEED THEM - a poem

Gulls like trolls

Are aggressive

Do Not Feed,

There's no need

Disengage 

Your eyes from their gaze

Feign indifference

To belligerent ways

Keep your sandwich

In its wrapper

Don't share your battered

Cod or scratchings

Bullying hatchlings

Line the harbour wall

Let them be

Bellicose by the sea

Crumbs of comfort

Hidden away cos

Giving in to giving

Makes them more pugnacious

*****

While Brid Corporation

Isn't spying or judging

I fling a spare crust

In healthy high dudgeon

Catch the truculent gull

In a snap for posterity

Beak full of bread

Defying austerity

(c) Joyce Barrass 2015

One percent inspiration: what makes your writing tick?

Whether you write for pleasure, for a living, for the hell of it, because you can't help it, we all know inspiration's an elusive butterfly that can be hard to harness.

It doesn't take a genius to know what Thomas Alva Edison said is true: "Genius is 1% inspiration, 99% perspiration."

But in between the sweat and buckling down to write in order to write, each of us snatches at precious personal muses that help to place us in the moment, with our words, our characters, our plotlines, our message, our soul-sharing.

When I felt a bit blocked with my second novel this week, I woke one morning from a dream encounter with my central characters. They reminded me not to be timid and self-editing while the first draft is humming along. Feel the fear and tap away regardless! Characters that are real flesh and blood to me, closer than family, will reassure or challenge me by living the next twist in the tale with me.

Yorkshire bard Ted Hughes's poem "The Thought Fox" explains the way inspiration came to him as a writer. You can hear the poet reading his poem here. 

Set on the Yorkshire Coast like my novel, below is my own latest poem trying to capture how one flash of inspiration for my work in progress came to me in the waking watches of the morning. 

Chatterthrow

They sailed through me in dream last night

My hero and my heroine,

His eyes reflect rainbows over marsh

Her scent of quay and salted sheets

Watched my hovering hand over blank page

Traced their fingers through knots of plot,

Unpicking and beachcombing unwritten words

Lips smiling at unmet characters

Over us, gulls of Chatterthrow

Wheeling and skimming the coffee cliffs,

Kittiwake held against her breast

As he whispers his breath under trembling wings

His palm facing the centred earth,

Her palm raised to the sky and spray,

My hand cradled between their warmth

Telling their story in woven waves

Guiding my grasp to the tiller of tales

Under the hush and howl of the fret

Cogs connect and the synapse sparks

Compass and craft over bar and block

(c) Joyce Barrass 2015

You can get my first novel, set on the peat moors and canals of South Yorkshire, "Goatsucker Harvest" here (some of the reviews may persuade you to dive in - it's FREE on Kindle Unlimited & crazy cheap on Kindle or in Paperback in UK & USA & some other parts of the planet.)