|Image courtesy of the Queen's Table blog|
My parents had their own styles of writing. Dad wrote in fine Italics always with a fountain pen. Mum had a fine, British hand. Both reflected them in a way I can't describe - I instantly recall them when I see pages that they wrote by hand.
As a girl, I had a long-standing correspondence with my cousin in Ireland. We wrote long letters to each other. She was very artistic (still is) and had a lovely, sloping hand. I pitied her having to read my crabbed, sloppy script in return.
I always vowed that I would change my writing and make it nicer to look at - or legible at least. Alas, it never happened. Dad gave me a fountain pen and tried to teach me Italics. I understood the dynamics of it and learned the letters and strokes, but the thing was - it was too slow. There were words and phrases pressing to come out, and they couldn't wait for fine flourishes and lovely scrawls.
For that reason, when I attempted to write long works, I never succeeded. The sight of my scribbles on my page took away from what I tried to convey. So when my boyfriend (now my husband) gave me his old Apple IIe computer, it was a revelation.
Finally, I was able to write without worrying about what the words actually looked like on the page. It was as magic as an incantation or a spell.
Perhaps I reflected that subconsciously in my Crown Phoenix series. The Crown Phoenix is, after all, a quantum typewriter that can move time and space.
And in a way, my laptop does move time and space. When I sit down to my story, I am transported to an Edwardian world. I'm in a stone cell with a black-haired orphan, or the garret of a huge, country house, with a boy who cannot leave his room.
I wish I did have beautiful script, especially when I'm signing a book for readers. They deserve the best I have to offer. I don't think it will ever happen. However, that magic, the machine, the Crown PHoenix - for me, that is real.