Once upon a time, quite a long time ago now, I went to a field near Derby and entered a world built by the Lorien Trust and populated by wonderful, imaginative, fascinating people. And the seed of a story was born in my head.
Since that day the seed has grown up into a little tree almost ready for re-potting into the big wide world of publishing attempts. In the growing-up process it has evolved quite considerably, until it no longer bears any real resemblance to the seed that it used to be.
Since, however, I love both the little tree and the place from which it was born, I didn’t want either one to be upset with the other. So this week I talked to the Lorien Trust to make sure they were happy that I wasn’t treading on any copyright toes, and there would be no unpleasantness down the line if the re-potting process were to go beautifully well. Today I’m delighted to be able to say they are fine with it, and wish me luck. Which is good news.
Also, Mercy the Goblin – the narrator from the now discarded version of Corpus – is not going without a fight. She spent all last night talking at me. I think I might have to write her, just to shut her the hell up.