The Private Writer

The Story Of The White Violets: Part 2

noreply@blogger.com (Esmerelda) — Wed, 03 Dec 2008 07:16:00 +0000

Part 2: What will wake the sleepy violets?

The Story Of The White Violets

noreply@blogger.com (Esmerelda) — Wed, 03 Dec 2008 05:38:00 +0000

A short story of purity and forgiveness for children, from Brownies & Rose-leaves by Roma White, 1892. Read by Esmerelda Jones. Insight and wisdom disguised as faeries and elves. Would you forfeit your purple robe to remain aware?

A Charm of Roses

noreply@blogger.com (Esmerelda) — Thu, 20 Nov 2008 00:54:00 +0000

Seashore

noreply@blogger.com (Esmerelda) — Tue, 11 Nov 2008 13:00:00 +0000

Poem Seashore from Song Offerings by Gitanjali. Translated by Rabindranath Tagore. Read by Esmerelda Jones. Esmerelda Jones Publishing (Australia) 2008. Video taken at Secret Harbour beach, Western Australia, 6.30am. Mystical, alluring, awakening.

Esmerelda Jones... writer of old curiosities

The Winsome Tea Shop

noreply@blogger.com (Esmerelda) — Tue, 30 Sep 2008 04:39:00 +0000

A strange, old world tea shop quivers with the vibrations of wisdom, offering the reader a most personal rejuvenation of life. The senses and beyond are uplifted with cream cakes, unspoiled fragrances, ethereal music, flowers glistening with night-mist... and yes, there are faeries in the garden.

The Winsome Tea Shop, a Vintage short story, is out now in PDF format. Order at my website.

Esmerelda Jones Author of Vintage & Victorian Fiction
www. esmereldajones.com.au

Using the subconscious to paint fiction

noreply@blogger.com (Esmerelda) — Sun, 24 Feb 2008 23:31:00 +0000

Famous authors often reserved their 'other self' for the privacy of their writing room. Such needed indulgence brought forth cherished times of private thoughts. You too should be delighting yourself in unrestricted views.

Close off the world and develop an intimate acquaintance with a character you have created and thus set free from the vapours of imagination (subconscious). When your thoughts quiver with expectation a power is released... the drawing forth of the image. I refer to this as energizing Frankenstein; turning your most vivid desires into a physical representation of your character.

Construct a cloth doll (or draw a likeness for a cardboard cutout). Catch their physical appearance. Who are they? Do they reveal any oddities? Are they employed or do they recline in leisure? Sketch in clothing. Remind yourself of hair, temperament and motives. Is this a translation of your inner passion? Converse openly with your character... ask questions, coaxing out the perfect portrayal of your dream. Sunbathe in the magic of being a designer. Now you will begin to discover... they will do anything you want them to... reporting, spying and filing information.

Gaze further into your mind. Do you know exactly where and how they live? Is there a map? Can you experience the weather, observe local animals and gather flowers? What minor characters are you bumping into? Do you feel like a tourist or can you invisibly investigate?

So you have become a creator. Before you is the doll, the representation of all your hopeful thoughts — but wait, it is naked and without status. You much now engage yourself as a costume designer. Back to those notes.

Flaunt your wand, feeling the confidence in your story. Study the picture above of a vintage book cover. In your mind fondle the lady's red glass beads. Outline her luscious lips with your finger. Paint her eyes porcelain blue. She's starting to breathe. She adores her ermine fur. Flick the feathers in her flamboyant hat (did you notice the jet hatpins?) Add more strands of gold to her ginger hair. A dab more of vermillion rouge. Pencil in a chic beauty spot. Pad out that bosom. Add an elegant dab of flirtatious perfume. In a diffusion of stars her dressing table manifests. You reach straightaway for the swans-down powder puff. A lovely pale blue ribbon bow sits atop. No doubt by now she is conversing with you and insisting on you letting her fine musical voice be known.

With jubilation you will now bestow the name for your character, after which you will be able to write about her without hesitation. You have achieved something wonderful and anchoring... an intimate knowledge of your character. Her words now ripple onto the paper. She sits nonchalantly on your dictionary, crossing her silk-stockinged legs. She fusses over morning tea and doodles on rainy afternoons (referring to it as artistic improvements).

The impossible dimension is reached, rupturing the membrane between fact and fiction. The story is yours to tell. Treasure your signature; it is the arrow of wisdom.

Esmerelda Jones

Author of Victorian Fiction and Old Curiosities
The Higher Self For Writers, Thinkers and Romantics
Poet's Cottage Knitting
The Private Writer

Intimate mornings... dotted thoughts

noreply@blogger.com (Esmerelda) — Wed, 20 Feb 2008 05:15:00 +0000

The poet thrills to each morning, awakening in the idyllic Poet's Cottage. Birds are part of this syncronicity... sometimes they grip a spring insect in their beaks. In this setting of Victorian tranquility the poet writes small hardcover books on romantic verse, and authors novels on Victorian fiction.

Added pleasures come from playing artist where the palette is dewy watercolour. One can paint while notetaking, while imaging. When the garden is splendid with yellow daffodils and jonquils I sketch or knit under the cascading willow.

Winter finds me beside a crackling fire knitting Scottish tweed socks and supping on raisin toast. I spoil myself with teapots and petit fours, staying up late like a naughty child. Entranced with beeswax candles.

My bedroom is a writer's haven. In summer the blithe cotton sheet is a tablecloth for dainty china plates of egg sandwiches, cut into triangles and garnished with needles of sliced lettuce. On certain afternoons I prop myself up in a newly made bed of rose-scented linen so I might indulge in truffle chocolates and the reading of old world children's books.

I deposit myself in the local coffee lounge to ponder and languish. Tea and notes and amusing observations. Feeling the gorgeousness of a felted bookcover I finished only yesterday. Italian sponge fingers. With unhurried fingers I reach into my bluebell canvas bag for English Country Living magazine as if it were a longed-for bunch of wildflowers.

Again and again we know that writing is living theatre. It's a collection of life.

Esmerelda Jones

Author of Victorian Fiction and Old Curiosities
The Higher Self For Writers, Thinkers and Romantics
Poet's Cottage Knitting
The Private Writer

Title: Secret Rendezvous
Artist: Alex Stefan
Available at AllPosters.com

Investigate everything

noreply@blogger.com (Esmerelda) — Sun, 17 Feb 2008 07:32:00 +0000

When observing the everyday, note how people choose to appear in public and private. Are there any flags of status? Pick out the symbols of prosperity in the film-noir Laura (1944) and get ideas for your own expression of fine living. Perhaps the white carnation boutonnière of columnist Waldo Lydecker?

While reviewing the movie I compiled a list of such symbols which may of use in character creation. See Symbols of Prosperity

Title: The Window Seat
Artist: Lidia Dynner
Available from AllPosters.com