Ever since I was little my favourite author made me shiver. Sometimes, in my own work, others feel I am being dark, or reaching out because it seems I write bleak words.
I think of Daphne du Maurier and Jamaica Inn. I always loved Jane Eyre as a child, it reminded me that life was not fair, and too often, unfortunate. Charlotte Bronte and her sisters were excellent at bringing out the sinister. (I learned later they lived near a churchyard so I cannot but think this had some influence). But Jamaica Inn let me know there was outright evil in the world, and too be careful lest it find its way to my door.
Not to say I go around thinking gloomy thoughts and ill of people. Nor do I expect cherry gumdrop rainbow sundaes around every corner. I just give as much as I’m willing, and if I learn one is deserving, I give more.
Jamaica Inn is a guilty pleasure for me, and the sea, the sea, a great symbol for the beauty and devastation that is life. The sea, a beautiful wonder, whose madcap adventures can lead one to joyful excursions or devastation.
The sea, always beautiful, but always respected. The ocean keeps you moving and aware.
Not quite sure where I’m going with this; it is late and I should sleep. But the sea will hold my dreams until I wake once more…