‘Scripts, Skeletons & Scriptures: Writing About Writing in Yorkshire.

[Human]

It rained quite heavily overnight. As I looked out my window this morning, I reflected on the wonderful equation:

(Same view) + (different weather) = (different view).



The morning routine was the same as yesterday: breakfast, workshops, then lunch. I ate way more freshly-baked focaccia than I should have, but occasionally, just occasionally, food is so good that it’s worth the commensurate increase in body weight.

After lunch the big agenda item was my first one-on-one meeting with a presenter/author at 4pm. That gave me plenty of time to go for another walk, to the nearby village. I had two items on the agenda once there: to go to the shop, and to go to the cemetary.

Having received directions from one of the staff, I set out through The Door At The End Of The Garden.



I came to this sign: a “Public Footpath” to the village. I was not given directions to take this path to get to the village. But what could possibly go wrong? I took the path.


Why, oh why, oh why, oh why, won’t I ever learn?

At first the “Public Footpath” was simply a narrow, but easy, bushwalking track – the sort of thing that you’d find, say, in the Blue Mountains or any number of Australian east coast sub-tropical rainforests.


Then it became just a tiny bit more precarious… It rained heavily last night, remember, so the track was slippery. Very slippery.


Then things started to get decidedly dicey, especially given the slippery surface, and I started to think that this was the sort of track that was best not taken alone, in case one person slipped and the other needed to go or call for help…



…Then the edge of the track stopped taking on the characteristics of a “slope”, and came to be more accurately described as a “cliff”.


To make matters worse, on the left (the non fatal-fall side) was a quite impenetrable wall, trapping me on the cliff-face…


Yes, it must be acknowledged that there were some beautiful views to be had…





But seriously? This was a “Public Footpath”? More like a public death-trap. I kept thinking that I was one slip away from my doom…


Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.

 

[Human]

Eventually there was a gap in the wall. I’d survived! “Free at last!” I thought. I walked along the path just as it started to rain heavily. I just had time to put on my trusted Kathmandu Gore-Tex jacket, when the rain stopped.



I emerged to see some signs of civilisation.



I continued on another path, before arriving at the Church building.



I found its cemetary.


And within a few minutes I’d found this grave. I have a colleague at work, an English teacher, who would have killed me if I hadn’t come here and gotten these photos.


One thing for sure: I was most definitely not returning via the same path I came! I walked through the village, and along the road, before arriving at the familiar and welcome path back to the house.






On the minus side, I didn’t make it to the shop. On the plus side. I did not slip and plunge to my death. That’s a win in my book.

 

[Human]

I made it back (just) in time for my 1-on-1 meeting with one of the authors who is presenting here.

All I'll say is that it was an amazing experience which gave me some brilliant pointers about how to make my writing so much better than it is -- in fact, if I can manage to do what was suggested, what I write might, just possibly, one day be good enough to be considered for publication.

After another delicious dinner and a stimulating and inspirational evening session with a visiting author, several of us sat up with the authors and chatted and quizzed them informally over a glass of wine.

I also received an incredibly kind and generous offer related to my day in Manchester on Saturday, but I'll hold off talking about that for now. Time for bed!

 

[jastel]

"Public Footpaths" in the UK are not what we think of as a cement "sidewalk" here.

They are usually old paths used for centuries to get to places, it just means the farmers cant stop you using them or fence them off for themselves...

There are other types that allow horses or bikes etc as well.
Some are very well used, some not as much....

 

[Human]

"Public Footpaths" in the UK are not what we think of as a cement "sidewalk" here.

They are usually old paths used for centuries to get to places, it just means the farmers cant stop you using them or fence them off for themselves...

There are other types that allow horses or bikes etc as well.
Some are very well used, some not as much...

I wish I’d known that yesterday! It was kinda fun though… as well as a little terrifying.

 

[Human]

I’m on a bit of a high as I write this. The day isn’t over, but it’s shaping up to be the best of my trip.

This afternoon I had my second 1-on-1 meeting with a presenter. The author I met with is, by any definition, highly successful: she has written a string of bestsellers over a period of over 15 years. She writes brilliantly; I aspire to be able to write like she does. My 1-on-1 experience yesterday was amazing, but also harrowing; it resulted in me having to re-write something I wrote from scratch (the new version is exponentially better).

So I didn’t know what to expect today.

I had given her a different piece of work to critique. She described it as “brilliant”, “important” … she said that “only you can write this, and it is imperative that you do”. She suggested some improvements but she also said that even as it is, it’s good enough to attract the attention of a publisher.

Wow. Wow.

Wow.

For the second time in two days, I walked out feeling quite emotional.

Our meeting had been early in the afternoon, which gave me time for a mid-to-late-afternoon walk to Hebden bridge. This time I followed instructions to the letter after walking through The Door At The End Of The Garden, and after a pleasant, but steep, downhill walk I arrived at Hebden Bridge successfully.





I strolled down the main street, Market St; the first stop, for the simple reason that I thought the women in my life would enjoy its wares, was The Yorkshire Soap Co.

Before now I didn’t think it was possible to spend over GBP 100 on soap, candles, and fragrances, but I managed it.


Next stop was Spirals – the shop that my wife had ordered from online. It was indeed a very nice gift shop.



I bought more stuff for my wife, but I couldn’t resist making one purchase for me. Will I dare to wear this around Melbourne? You betcha.

 

[Human]

Having walked down the hill to get to Hebden Bridge, I had no inclination to walk back up the hill – especially considering my purchases. So I caught the bus back up the hill. I loved listening to the Yorkshire accents during my trip.


Tonight we have free time after dinner, and if all goes according to plan I’ll be taking part in a quintessential English cross-cultural experience. I am seriously excited!