Part Six – The Author’s
Note
The genesis of The
Chronicle of Eboracum was extraordinarily simple. Having realised that my writing
was becoming increasingly disjointed I decided that something drastic had to be
done. I needed to write a story that had an ending. A simple feat you might
think, aside from the debilitating panic that consumes me whenever I consider
creating any form of conclusion. After many long walks to work, several delayed
train journeys, and writing primarily on the back of till receipts, I had
finally a severely disjointed but almost complete story.
Though primarily a work of utter fantasy this story is also akin
to Frankenstein’s monster. It includes a patchwork of half-remembrances,
obscure facts and more than a little desperation. Eboracum was the name of the Roman settlement which developed into
the city we know today as York. Wallachia
was the name of the kingdom that Vlad the Impaler ruled during the Middle Ages.
Medieval bestiaries described the pard
as a creature that could kill with a single leap. Meanwhile Costica was my exhausted brain latching
onto the discarded coffee cup of a fellow traveller. There is also an actual
plant called the Peruvian Sheep Eater (puya
chilensis), which has recently bloomed at the RHS garden Wisley in Surrey, and
acts in exactly the manner I described.
Am I pleased with my monstrous creation? There are so many
things that ought to be better, so many ways it is inferior, and so many parts
that are incomplete. Yet for the half-crazed scribbling of an author who seemingly
cannot write the words THE END it is not an entirely bad effort. Whilst it may
not be perfect my one hope is that it will help make the next story that much less
painful to see to its proper conclusion.
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