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Tag: writing inspiration
Moonrise over Great Oyster Bay, Swansea Tasmania
This photo of Great Oyster Bay was taken at Swansea, Tasmania, the day before we ventured over to the Freycinet Peninsula (seen here across the bay) for a hike down to iconic Wineglass Bay. Tasmania is a huge source of inspiration for my fantasy fiction writing, with its beautiful, fierce wilderness and even fiercer convict history.
What inspires you? Part 2 – outback flowers, New South Wales
I took this photo on a remote cattle station in the pastoral country between Broken Hill and Wilcannia, far west New South Wales. The bright little flowers are such a stark contrast to the red dirt in this semi-arid part of Australia. It’s one of the reasons I’m so fascinated with Australia and using it as inspiration for my writing. It opens up so many possibilities for worldbuilding and unique settings in fantasy fiction – I feel so lucky that I’m in a position to explore it.
So, please share with me, what inspires you? If you write, where do you get ideas for your stories and settings?
Cascade at the Adelaide Botanic Gardens, South Australia
I took this photo of the ‘Cascade’ glass sculpture by Sergio Redegalli when I attended amazing bestselling fiction author Fiona McIntosh‘s Commercial Fiction Masterclass at the Adelaide Botanic Gardens in South Australia. Apparently this piece weighs 12 tonnes!
I only realised just now that the reflection of the Palm House on the left hand side looks like part of the wave. And yes, that is a duck photobombing on the other side of the water.
I’ve previously written about attending other writers’ weekends with Fiona – you can read more at An author’s journey – the business of writing (2015) and Business of writing – building your brand (2016).
Done and Darbie’d – story intro part 2
Following on from yesterday’s post Done and Darbie’d – story intro part 1, here’s the second part of the introduction to my short story, which was published last year in The Never Never Land fantasy fiction anthology.
He loathed it; the wilderness, the witless horse beneath him. His fear of these ominous, overgrown hills was boundless. Fear that ran its chill finger down his spine in the dead of night, the fear of being lost while a dead man’s boots trod in his wake, a ghost seeking retribution.
