Writing – Page 6 – I Walk Alone

Thickening the plot

Kim and I wandered down Cutbush Lane towards Mansbridge talking about the things we’d seen in Marhill Copse. We both agreed that the signs, both literal and figurative, looked promising for this little piece of woodland. We walked past Gaters Mill, and down the hill towards the White Swan. The sky was overcast but it was a warm day. The meadows were bright with wildflowers. If it wasn’t for the tarmac road, lampposts and crash barriers, we might have stepped back in time to when this was all farmland and copses and the Itchen Navigation still carried barges filled with wool and coal.

Exploring Daisy Dip

On 11 August 2021 I’d walked across Riverside park to check out the repairs to Woodmill, then I’d carried on to the flower Roads to find the houses where my grandparents and Commando’s had once lived. Now I wanted to explore Daisy Dip, the ribbon of parkland in the valley between the houses. The park is split in two by Lobelia road and it was the west side I was interested in because I planned to feature it in the book I was writing.

The flower roads

On 11 August 2021, I’d been to look at the repairs to Woodmill, but this was just the first part of a much longer walk. In fact, Woodmill and the repairs were almost incidental. The main aim of my walk was flowers, although maybe not the kind you’re expecting. Once I’d inspected the new brickwork at the mill I carried on along Woodmill Lane, over the little railway bridge, and crossed the road at the junction of Portswood Road and High Road. I was heading for Swaythling.

Portswood, trams, tin churches, a laundry and some research

Walter Dowling was a tram driver. He was also Commando’s grandfather. In our attic, there was a wooden box with some of his prized possessions, including his war medals, photographs, postcards, and a tiny diary. During the spring of 2021, I’d been working on a story that involved trams, and Commando thought some things in the box might give me inspiration. The diary was especially poignant. Walter wrote little, but it covered the period when he had malaria and was about to be leaving the army after seven years. It was also when he first met Violet, Commando’s grandmother. He may have been a man of few words, but the words he wrote about her showed how deeply he had loved her. They brought me to tears.

Plagued

It has been a long time coming, but finally, the big project I have been working on for the last few years has come to fruition. All the research, head scratching, procrastination, imagining and working late into the night have finally paid off. My first novel, Plagued, has now been published and I can call myself an author rather than just a writer.

Truth and fiction

June had been a busy month, mainly taken up with research, writing and working with my editor. At least the weather was nice and I was able to sit on the decking at my little round mosaic table while I worked. Of course there was some walking, but nothing very exciting, or worthy of writing about. By mid July, the bulk of the work was done, and as the weather was still good, I was pining for greenery and off road trails.

M	T	W	T	F	S	S
				1	2	3
4	5	6	7	8	9	10
11	12	13	14	15	16	17
18	19	20	21	22	23	24
25	26	27	28	29	30	31