I read somewhere (possible The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron), about the importance of making sure there is fresh inspiration. That as writers, we can only output what we input. I’ve been stuck indoors, editing various stories for a while now, with little fresh input to inspire me.
But last weekend, that changed. My dear partner and I decided to go for a bush walk. Or perhaps forest walk is a more accurate term. I love the Tassie Rainforest – the moss, and ferns, all the different fungi. It’s the home of fairy tales. You can almost see the fairies dancing in a circle under the mushrooms, or red riding hood skipping between the trees, Vasalisa getting directions from her doll on her way to Baba Yaga’s house. Fantasy is my forte, and while I don’t write about tiny fairies dancing under mushrooms, nor of the older fairy tales (though I think I might like to write something along those lines), the beauty of the forest sets my imagination whirling, and gives me that fresh input to enable me to find more stories to tell.