I’m moving inexorably back into Hild world. Hopefully I’ll still be around here a lot, but if I’m not, you know why.
I’ve now plotted out the rest of this volume of Hild. I’m happily filling in environmental details. What does the sky look like in Yeavering in March? What birds are flying over Whitby in April? What shrubs flower on the moors in June? Next comes the deliciousness of delineating, exactly, human sexual awakening: at what point, exactly, do we become aware of the creaminess of a woman’s skin, the coppery tang of male adrenaline, the fall and swing of a beautiful person’s hair? How does that flash of understanding, that, Oh, so that’s what these weird feelings mean, work?
If you’ve read any fiction that does this convincingly, I’d like to know. This isn’t something I’ve spent time thinking about before. It might be interesting to see how others do it.