I'm so sorry for the silence on the progress of The Unwinding. Times have not been good, and we are all dealing with incredible challenges. I've been away from home now since February, only touching base for an evening before returning to Broadway. My father was ill, and on 7th March he met death with a brave heart and no fear. Our family are still reeling from this and struggling to cope with trying to have a funeral when restaurants are shut, churches are shut, gatherings are limited.
During all this time I have been trying to finish The Lost Spells, and this is now done. It feels as if in some ways there has never been a better time for The Unwinding. We need places of peace in which to rest out souls. I hope The Silent Unwinding in particular will be one of these.
Today I picked up teh proofs for the two books, in Jaffe and Neale, from John. I've not settled to look properly yet. This is the first time I have seen the work on the page. The size is just right. Small enough to echo the intimate creature that was the medieval Book of Hours. I hope the heft of the bound book will add to this echo.
I've written about today on my blog, so rather than repeat here, please follow the link to that. I found the most remarkable place in which to bide my time, with larksong and fieldfare and pattern and air, light and shadow and dancing stones.
Time is a strange thing. I am wearing my father's watch. I have his typewriter and wish to write about him. I may take the typewriter to the stones to do this. I need peace of mind to understand what is happening, and there seems to be so much confusion. My dad was such a lovely man. Watching him draw was the very thing that drew me in to this world of books, reading, this community of the literate, this place of readers and librarians, booksellers and writers, publishers and editors that is my family now.
The Unwinding will be going to press soon. I have picked up a couple of things, checking the proofs, but once these are sorted the button will be pressed. I hope it gives people something of what they need in these difficult times.
Stay safe, be kind. Don't allow those who are hate filled to enter your life. Be extra kind, polite, to those key workers who make our lives possible. Smile when you can. And if you hear a lark sing, then stop for a while to listen.
I'm away to check proofs and think on my pa. He was curious wise to the last.
I'm home next Thursday. I think I may just sit on the hill for a day, watch the tide come in, go out, listen to the birds.