Monday From the Cottage of Blog: Daydreams and Robert Lous Stevenson
From the Cottage of Blog with Annie collies running all over the place LOL
The Land of Story-books
By Robert Louis Stevenson
At evening when the lamp is lit,
Around the fire my parents sit;
They sit at home and talk and sing,
And do not play at anything.
Now, with my little gun, I crawl
All in the dark along the wall,
And follow round the forest track
Away behind the sofa back.
There, in the night, where none can spy,
All in my hunter’s camp I lie,
And play at books that I have read
Till it is time to go to bed.
These are the hills, these are the woods,
These are my starry solitudes;
And there the river by whose brink
The roaring lions come to drink.
I see the others far away
As if in firelit camp they lay,
And I, like to an Indian scout,
Around their party prowled about.
So, when my nurse comes in for me,
Home I return across the sea,
And go to bed with backward looks
At my dear land of Story-books.
Thank you Mr. Stevenson. I found this in my mother’s book collection. I haven’t read it in years. It takes me back to when I was a child and used the sofa back to be a fort—and used the books I used to read to be my fairy land. I used to play Black Beauty regularly.
It makes me wonder if we’re not so very different than we were as children. How many of us still play out the stories we read in our minds. I do. I constantly change the situations—what would have happened if—and put myself into the cloak of the heroine and into the arms of my hero. When I was reading the Calhouns by Nora Roberts, those cliffs and the ocean below kept me company for hours. What a wonderful place to grow up.
I’ve finished Arms of the Enemy. (as though everyone hasn’t heard that ad nauseum) I’ll start working on the Legacy rewrites and daydream – looking for a seed for the next one.
Maybe I’ll stare out the window and look at the barges floating up and down Lower New York Harbor for inspiration.
I think maybe I’ll start with what kind of outer conflict can bring out the inner insecurities and conflicts of another human being—then make it clash with someone elses inner and outer conflicts. Daydreams. Wonderful things.
Happy reading, happy writing, happy revising.
Pat
The Land of Story-books
By Robert Louis Stevenson
At evening when the lamp is lit,
Around the fire my parents sit;
They sit at home and talk and sing,
And do not play at anything.
Now, with my little gun, I crawl
All in the dark along the wall,
And follow round the forest track
Away behind the sofa back.
There, in the night, where none can spy,
All in my hunter’s camp I lie,
And play at books that I have read
Till it is time to go to bed.
These are the hills, these are the woods,
These are my starry solitudes;
And there the river by whose brink
The roaring lions come to drink.
I see the others far away
As if in firelit camp they lay,
And I, like to an Indian scout,
Around their party prowled about.
So, when my nurse comes in for me,
Home I return across the sea,
And go to bed with backward looks
At my dear land of Story-books.
Thank you Mr. Stevenson. I found this in my mother’s book collection. I haven’t read it in years. It takes me back to when I was a child and used the sofa back to be a fort—and used the books I used to read to be my fairy land. I used to play Black Beauty regularly.
It makes me wonder if we’re not so very different than we were as children. How many of us still play out the stories we read in our minds. I do. I constantly change the situations—what would have happened if—and put myself into the cloak of the heroine and into the arms of my hero. When I was reading the Calhouns by Nora Roberts, those cliffs and the ocean below kept me company for hours. What a wonderful place to grow up.
I’ve finished Arms of the Enemy. (as though everyone hasn’t heard that ad nauseum) I’ll start working on the Legacy rewrites and daydream – looking for a seed for the next one.
Maybe I’ll stare out the window and look at the barges floating up and down Lower New York Harbor for inspiration.
I think maybe I’ll start with what kind of outer conflict can bring out the inner insecurities and conflicts of another human being—then make it clash with someone elses inner and outer conflicts. Daydreams. Wonderful things.
Happy reading, happy writing, happy revising.
Pat
posted by Unknown at 10:31 AM
1 Comments:
I brought along my digital camera, but unfortunately not the connecting cable. When I get home I'll send you pictures.
Pat
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