I Have Reached These Lands But Newly

Hurrah and huzzah with brightly polished brass knobs on. I asked in my post Ask Jeeves for people to level questions at me concerning my new novel Plenilune. Bethany got her question in first, and thankfully her question is the sort I can start off with without too much confusion.

If you have any questions you would like me to answer (or to try to answer - again, I can refuse if I think it would give too much away) just post it in a comment on Ask Jeeves. Your questions can be thought-provoking - for myself as well as for other blog-readers. Fresh blood (or new eyeballs, if that is a little less grotesque) is always welcome when addressing a novel.

Bethany: where is [the novel] set?

Plenilune is set in dale country. If you have read or seen any of the James Herriot stories, you will know how lofty, mysterious, and splendid this kind of countryside can be. Wide pasture country, looped through with rivers, furred with woods, broken up into farm garths and ploughlands and sudden runs up hidden arms of land in which nothing moves but the fox and red deer is the sort of country in which Plenilune takes place. But with the dales comes another piece of land, just as important: the fells. Everything in the dales goes on under the tawny shadows of the big barring fells, and everything on the fells goes on under the enormous colourless sky. Everything is up.

Unfortunately, everything is also in mid-October at the moment, and the year is drawing to a chilly close. The finches are in the wild blackberry bushes, pretending there are still more berries, and whole clouds of swallows are on the move, making a racket under the stable-eaves as they roost for the night before continuing their southward migration in the morning. Pretty soon these beautiful dales will be smothered in snow and the fells, ever ominous, uplifted against leaden grey skies. At about that point the story will be set in front of the fireplace, with perhaps a pan of hot chestnuts to boot. But at the moment it's still fine enough to ride a cock-horse to Banbury Cross (only, there is no Banbury Cross) to see a fine lady upon a white horse (which horse is dark grey, in reality).

Be sure to bring your wellies.

5 ripostes:

  1. Oh my goodness, that sounds so intriguing! :D What a lovely description of October you've written there, as well. :)

    ~ Victoria (http://raindropsandmoonlight.blogspot.com)

  2. Grazie, Victoria! October is easy to describe, for me, because it has all the properties that I imagine ought to belong to November, and as I am very fond of November, I am frequently thinking about October weather. But sometimes I get the feeling that neither month is nearly so beautiful as I make it out to be and that I am completely sugar-coating the whole blustery ordeal... Not that this guilt hampers me from continuing.

  3. Oh! I love the fells! I did some fell walking when I went to visit my Uncle in the Lake District, and your description is very fitting :) What a marvellous place to set it.

  4. It is good to know that I, who have not set a flesh-and-blood foot on a flesh-and-blood fell can live up to the experience of one who has.

  5. I have some pictures that I took of the fells, if it'd help you at all. Not that many, but some. If you like I can email some to you.