“Good morning world, just wanted to let you know that I’m not dead. Yes all you haters, I’m still alive.”

Yeah, so, by now everyone who reads this blog should know that it is rarely ever updated and that I rarely ever speak about things that matter to anyone else. Only things that matter to me!

And that’s the way it’s staying!

In other news:

I participated in NaNoWriMo 2013 last month and although I didn't reach 50,000 words I came a little over half way and am proud of that.

I also then decided after the clock of November ticked over into December, to lay my story to bed for a while to try and conjure up some new ideas before I work too hard on it and end up either writing it into a corner or printing it all off just for the satisfaction of throwing it in the fire out of pure frustration.

Yes, dear world, you heard me correctly. I have laid “The Maiden Squire” in a folder in a dark corner of my laptop’s memory and left it to fester and bubble over with new ideas.

Hopefully this break will give some fresh inspiration for it come April next year when I attempt the first Camp NaNo of 2014.

Until then though I would like to point out that I will not be idle in the months between now and that next Camp NaNo.

No Sirree, my dear world. I am not going to be idle at all. In fact I have recently started writing a novelette/short story of a similar genre but about something I have loved ever since I was a little girl.
When I was about six, I would walk down the road to the local library and fetch handfuls of books to bring home with me. On of these days I found a children’s book with strange picturesin it. 

Almost like an original Grimm’s fairy book.

It told the story of how elves, pixies, trolls and goblins would sneak into the human world and change their own young for the child of a human. 

The human child that was taken would reside in peace with the fairy folk who stole it but the child left behind for the humans would often be unruly and disobedient to the point where the parents would know that they had been tricked and that their child was not really their child.

Those children left behind were known as Changeling Children.

Later on in life when I fell into the embrace of poetry, I remember reading a poem by William Butler Yeats, *. In it he spoke of, what I now know to be, a changeling child:

Come away, O human child!
To the water’s and the wild
With a faery hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand
I recently rediscovered that poem and fell in love with the mystic ways of Elven and Faerie folk. I guess it’s the pure Celtic blood in me.

And so I give you my own rendition of the classic tale of a changeling child. No research, no months of planning, just a spontaneous story that has started sprouting in my mind after years of dormancy.

I wouldn’t suggest holding your breath for a spectacular spectacle of young creative talent, but I would definitely love to send it out to any of you readers for constructive criticism. If you so wished to read it.

Let me know via email, PM or in a comment below what your opinions of faeries and folk lore are and what you think about the changeling child myth.

Without further ado, and with a lightened heart, I bid you all adieu. Until next we meet.
* Click here to read William Butler Yeats's poem - "The Stolen Child"

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