The Importance of Hearing Ernest

Tonight I took my mother to the Wednesday night market in town. We were mainly going to see Bohemian Nights, but we did dinner and the craft-stall-thing along the way. Bohemian Nights greeted us with "What are you doing here?" then synchronised their watches with Mum. Well, half the group did (the half I grew up with). He is *such* a good musician. Both of them are, but I have watched Ernie's talents develop over the years and I admire him immensely. Just don't tell him this. I think there's some of his music here.

(no subject)

I did some work! I now have a new map for potential novels. It has holes in it and circles all over it. It isn't quite complete though. My next task is to find out which elements govern which zodiac signs.

This map is all about what happens to a landscape (Canberra) if we take different elements of our cultural past and give them clear geographic equations. Basically, it's a terribly, terribly lazy way of worldbuilding because all I am doing is finding dumped cultural constructs and re-applying them and then extrapolating. No new languages. No strange peoples. And the only odd customs in sight are ones that are practised by people I know.

My reminder of the day is that putting holes in maps is not the same as writing a story. This is a shame: I turn out to be delightfully skilled at putting holes into maps.

One reason I'm mapping *all* my background then letting it sit and grow by itself till I get home is because I want the background to inform my stories, not the stories to be woven clumsily round a concept.

I like my concept, especially since I have worked out that my flat is dominated by hot, dry influences under this system. Canberra-friends, just tell me where you live and I can tell you if you're hot and dry, cold and wet, or something else entirely!