April is eight days away. Have I planned a project yet? No.
My vague plan was I’d have the outline of a serial for The People’s Friend ready to go. Or my next pocket novel. The truth is I’ve got several ideas but nothing concrete. One of these ideas – adapting my Mills & Boon runner up romance – is underway, but I’m not sure where it’s going. The plot will need to change substantially, and I’m not sure how to work the required elements into it.
When I walked into the next village to go food shopping yesterday, my route took me past a decrepit mill that has been up for sale forever. It’s a building I’ve been dreaming about as the setting for a serial where a long lost Canadian relative buys it, befriends a local interior designer who’s been desperate to get her hands on it, and the two uncover a mysterious family past.
But what past? That’s my sticking point. As always, plot let’s me down.
But I digress. As I was passing the mill yesterday, I noticed a bridge over the river that flows past it, the track over which now disappears into the modern road bridge. This was not easy to take as it was a very bright day and this part of the garden was in shade.
The light area towards the left is sun shining on the path over the old bridge. As you can see, the garden is now horribly overgrown, though I can remember flowers when the last owner, an elderly man, was still living there.
I read somewhere about the complicated structure of this area which gives rise to frequent subsidence and sewer problems. There’s a bridge over a bridge over a bridge or something. There’s certainly a river and a canal running through there.
What a fabulous ‘what, when, why…’ situation. I am unable to find where this old track led. Into the village where I was going, perhaps. (turn right over the new bridge, these days). Why didn’t they just knock the old bridge down when they built the new road?
This is definitely a story starter, but can I finish it?