Every time I go to a bookstore, I run around every corner of it exclaiming, “ooh look, look at this, isn’t this marvelous!?” As if nobody has ever seen an illustrated copy of “the Three Musketeers” by Alexander Dumas before.
For the record, it was an adapted, illustrated version. Which yuck, no thank you. I want the illustrated Dumas version. Sad faces everywhere.
Yet, despite all my excitement I had no money, so I walked away from multiple bookstores empty handed. I know it will be hard to forgive myself. I found so many for my banned books list.
On the positive, my boyfriend did find Cthulhu related book work and for that, it made the whole trip worthwhile.
I’m not sure why bookstores are so common in little coastal towns. However, it’s pretty rad. I can’t find a better place to find inspiration for writing.
As we toured the coastline, picking up broken shells, petrified wood, and colorful stones, I was starting to feel the rush of new stories on me. Little landscapes of tidal pools which were becoming new worlds in my mind- where either horror or adventure awaited. The whole coastline is full of miniature worlds waiting to be put to pen, waiting for characters , waiting for interaction.
We also held the beat for the White Stripe’s “Seven Nation Army” via driftwood sticks, flip flops and bass line scatting; and a capella-d our way down the beach. We were complimented by a man taking pictures of another man in a monkey mask.
To sum it all up, I had a day off from thinking about everything except for writing and it was just lovely. Not that I’m destined to become some great fiction writer (I could only ever get the hang of short stories) but it was good to just think about stories and writing coming into their essence.