Back in March, during my stint insideadog, I posted a pic of the tiny cemetery that inspired the story that became a manuscript that will hopefully morph into a book one day.
I’ll post the same pic again here but first I’ll go with this shot, which shows the setting for much of the aforementioned story. I stayed in this cottage on a family holiday in late 2005, early 2006. The minute I walked inside my story-senses started tingling. Reading the guest book, standing in the dark listening to the omnipresent wind howl and soaking up the utter isolation of the place all added to my interest.
Now that I think about it, it was a little like falling in love. I didn’t think I had a story but I couldn’t stop thinking about the place. I was besotted.
And then we found the cemetery. History suggests there’s a teenage girl named Lily in the odd grave but no one seems to be able to explain why. Lots of research followed and plenty of questions to locals. Still no answers.
That’s music to an author’s ears. The story, her story, was up to me. And so it began.