(Just let me quickly say apologies for dumping into your in-box early, but it’s a busy day tomorrow and besides, it’s publication week!)
I always get a bit anxious when a new book is published because as of this weekend, The Red Thread, a fantasy, will be available via Amazon and other outlets for Kindle and within a couple of weeks, in print from a quazillion distributors. I have to shake myself because I can’t believe I wrote another fantasy after so many years of writing historical fiction.
Simply, I blame it on Covid!
As I’ve said in the past, we had a very short Lockdown compared to the rest of the world. Our state government closed our island borders rapidly and that moat of ocean water became our armour against the pandemic. Even so, we went into a three-month Lockdown with all the rules that the rest of the world had to observe. I remember gardening, (thanking the stars we had a big garden to keep us busy) and a helicopter flying over daily to make sure we were observing those strictures (Big Brother and Overkill comes to mind). But in fact, the coast had become deserted overnight so it hardly mattered.
For me, it was Christmas – like travelling back to the 1950’s when this place was barely known by the grockles and thrip (derogatory terms used for coastal incomers) of the world. In short, it was heaven.
But…
There were limitations.
Time limits to our walks were the worst and slowly, that began to eat away at me. Yes, I know – all for the greater good etc, but in truth, there was no one around so I rebelled and broke ranks. I’d walk further afield and for longer, I’d go kayaking, swimming, seeing no one. I’d hang onto the freedom of being Outdoors as if my life depended on it.
It was an eye opener.
Life began to morph before my eyes. I’m not a great socialiser so that was no loss, but there was relief on medical appointment days as our daughter was living in our city townhouse at the time and we could see each other on those visits to the city. In addition, our son and his little family lived on the farm and as farming was a reserved occupation, we legitimately had our Outside freedoms across the paddocks and could mix happily with our grandson.
But the idea that we could be imprisoned in our houses, in our gardens and behind fences changed how I felt about life generally.
Family had always been important, now it was utterly sacrosanct.
Freedom to roam? Never worried about it before but now being Outdoors and especially Outdoors all day if I chose – to walk the beaches, the bush, roads, to swim and kayak without the threat of fines and detention became all consuming (even though I had more freedom than most). This is what happens to one’s mind in an autocracy, I thought.
Never ever again would I take personal freedom for granted. When all this was over, I would always put the Great Outdoors ahead of anything. Even writing.
And there’s the thing!
When Lockdown was called, I thought no problem – three months, I’ll write the next book. Confinement shall make it so.
Ha! Not so at all! I barely wrote a thing. Within days, my creativity had dried up. I’d just pull on my shoes and count down the moments until the Terrier and I could head Out.
Lockdown finished and with moving around more, I decided perhaps my writing would be moving as well, but something stalled it in its tracks. I had no desire to read historical fact, no desire to follow a path through the 12th century. No desire period.
What to do? Retire as a writer? The thought crossed my mind.
I tidied up of my writing files, research books and folders and in the effort, found 30,000 words of fantasy I had written moons ago under the title The Cabinet of Curiosities. It stirred me a little and I reached for a book on Asian myth, noting this and that legend that appealed. The legend of the red thread lay before me on one of those pages and an intrigue began to grow.
I decided to continue writing that old fantasy novel with no intention of releasing it. It was an exercise in which I could lose myself. Rediscover plot, character, setting. No rules really – just setting it in the enigmatic world of Eirie that I had created all those years ago and allow myself to enjoy the process.
I sent the story to my editor, John Hudspith, at the 50,000 word mark. I always do this, to find out if I do indeed have a story. Johnny reported back – ‘Yes. You have a story.’
Renaming it The Red Thread, the rest is, of course, history except that in the past I was more rigid and disciplined with my writing time. Now, I’m flexible. At 72, the Outdoors calls to me to relish it as long as I’m physically able. Never one who enjoys sitting for hours on end, Covid burned the idea of free movement into my brain.
I write with joy now, I write because I’ve once again fallen in love with fiction and the word, and I’m re-acquainting myself with my 12th century characters. I’m almost 50,000 words into the second of The Peregrinus Series - back to historical fiction with feeling!
Thus, fantasy freed me from a creative vacuum. It let me doodle and paint and tell a fanciful story filled with the rich vibrancy of the exotic Far East with no rules beyond adventure and intrigue.
Fantasy may not be every reader’s cup of tea but myth and legend is the root of all our reading from time immemorial and I think it’s important we remember that.
The Red Thread is just one such that dates back centuries…
A red silk thread tied around one’s wrist by the God of Fate is immovable.
Destiny is immutable.
For Lien of the First House of Silk and Ming Xao, her Emperor, the woven silk thread on their wrists brings them to the very edge of death as they are hunted by the fey for a secret map they hold in their possession.
A new, long-awaited fantasy from award-winning writer, Prue Batten, author of The Chronicles of Eirie.
“Prue Batten is skilled at using language to create visual images, bringing the world of her books alive for the reader. Reading The Red Thread, I imagined an intricate tapestry unfolding. This novel should appeal to fans of Cecilia Dart-Thornton.” (Juliet Marillier, author of the Sevenwaters and Blackthorn & Grim series)
Purchase link for e-book: https://mybook.to/Eirie5 To launch the book, the previous four in the series have been reduced to 99 cents for Kindle. (Apologies for shameless marketing!)
And so to finding a piece of music that encapsulates my novel?
There’s only one piece…
Back to normal broadcasts next week!
Cheers.
Prue, I'm so excited for you!
And I've really enjoyed reading about your writing process during lockdown. Speaking for myself - as a writer now and a non-writer at the time - I wonder if I would have even written anything at all? Like so many I was a bit stuck in my own head at the time.
I did other things, though. I spattered most of the surfaces of the house with paint - not for redecoration purposes (although that would have been a great idea!), but because I threw myself into mixed media art; I worked on my French for several hours a day in a since-abandoned effort to enrol to train as a modern languages teacher; I finally got to grips with dealing with money (something I had never managed before) and worked out how to make a budget that worked for me, and became ridiculously athletic (see 'since-abandoned' above) thanks to (far too many) YouTube exercise videos.
Now that I'm typing out this question I think it's rather a silly one, but I'll go ahead anyway! Would you recommend that I start with 'The Stumpwork Robe' and read the books in order, or would you say that I'll manage 'The Red Thread' as a standalone read? Having read about its journey all the way through to publication day I feel invested in 'The Red Thread' and want to read it first! 🤣
Congratulations on the launch of your 14th book - I think? - I can’t imagine how that must feel. My first is due in March and I’m already nervous but so excited. Living in England we had some fairly long lockdowns and like you I was very fortunate to be able to enjoy the great outdoors without breaking any rules and my husband and I were great companions during that difficult time. My creativity flourished as otherwise I would have gone stir crazy. I was also fortunate to be able to work from home too. Anyhow, I wrote 2 children’s books during that time and almost forgot about them until my cosy crime novel was picked up by a publisher and when I pitched them to her, she snapped them up and I found myself signing a 3 book deal contract. The rest is a whirlwind of excitement and joy on becoming a publisher author in my sixties. Thanks for a thoroughly enjoyable post and it’s wonderful to read about people’s lives from far flung places. Tasmania sounds beautiful. 💕