Haworth is a rural village on a steep hill, surrounded by fields of heather and a bitter breeze. The parsonage, where the Brontë sisters grew up and lived, is easily the biggest building there. It sits by tall trees and crooked gravestones, and is filled with remnants of the family’s lives; it does feel like they’ve just popped out for a walk on the moor. Continue reading “Visiting Haworth, the home of the Brontës”
No child or future generation will ever know what this was like. They will never understand.
In one sense, and in great measure, to be peculiar is to be original, and than the true originality there is no higher literary virtue.
Would you not like to try all sorts of lives? One is so very small.
But that is the satisfaction of writing: one can impersonate so many people.
I always write in terms of scenes, and for a big scene in one of the Cromwell novels, I will prepare for several days by going through all my notes and all my sources before diving into the writing.
A poet can survive everything but a misprint.
The world is full of wonderful things you haven’t seen yet.
– J.K. Rowling
Photo by The White House.