London Bridge is Falling Down: The City of WhoLock

By Caitlyn Tendick

 

I could describe how the Tower of London isn't really a tower at all, or try to explain to you the slightly offensive man that hangs out in Trafalgar Square with a hawk.  I could tell you about the Underground and explain the unique scent that bellows from the tube openings or I could tell you about how the city is overwhelmingly massive and a force to be reckoned with.  I have heard many times about how magnificent

London is and there are plenty of travelers, bloggers and writers that I’m sure could paint that city in such a way that makes you believe that the clocks are dripping with gold and the royalty has left its mark in jewels everywhere you go.  The thing is, London isn't a town for poetics.  I think to give it poetics actually does it a disservice.

I was there with two friends this past November and while I had been there before, I think I enjoyed the city much more the second time. It is big and it is overwhelming and it is hard to take everything in all at once.  Now, there are plenty of stories I could tell you about my trip there; all of which seem so insignificant and monumental when I think of them now.  But, since my blog mainly seems to be about stories and about writing (or the lack thereof lately) I want to spend my time pointing something out to you fellow readers and travelers that I think does not get discussed enough.  London is no longer a real place.  It has ceased all economic or world power that we think it holds.  No. London is a story; a conglomeration of different tales and legends all combined into one anthology.

 

Think about it for a moment.

You have Big Ben where Peter, Wendy, Michael and John, all flew past on their way to Neverland and where Jack and Rose danced to Glenn Miller’s Moonlight Serenade.

You have the old Dickensian streets playing out before your eyes, the dirt and the grit of a smoggy London filled night rolling through the alleyways and the twisting down the cobbled side streets that still exist.

You have Fleet Street, home of the demon barber and the tavern dedicated to him where you can get a fantastic meat pie and a glass of mulled wine.  Just ignore the image of a flashing blade as you exit that night and hope that the streets are a bit crowded as you weave back home on unsteady and travel logged feet.

You have the black smoke that reaches out from the gap on the London Underground, stealing away the people that are easily forgotten if the gap is not minded.  Out on the streets there are numerous the forgotten alley’s that we all pass without a second glance, never aware of the portals that are contained at their end.  Door and Neverwhere’s slew of characters are waiting down there.

Shakespeare’s Globe sits in the heart of this town, old stories of betrayal and murder playing out inside its dome while out on the outskirts of the nightlife and bustling roads, Charles Dickens house still sits.  His walls are covered with words he wrote a long long time ago and his writing desk still sits empty, waiting for another story to be composed. 

Connecting these two worlds is the infamous London bridge that we see knights riding across to go to jousting tournaments, carrying favors from their ladies while the bridge itself holds echoes of markets and women hanging from windows to call down to the men below.  Then, it is beneath these bridges that ghost stories were made and where hands reach up from the icy tombs they have been banished too, beckoning the lone wandering as they try to find their way home.

By Caitlyn Tendick 

All the while, Big Brother is apparently watching us in this city, giving a whole new meaning to the London Eye.  But, James Bond is protecting us, racing his numerous flashy cars up and down these roads while wearing designer suits bought from the shops in the ritzier part of town.

There’s Hogwarts Great Hall, Sherlock’s Baker Street, and the fear that the Doctor has instilled in us that something horrid happens here every single Christmas season.  You have Kings Cross Station with Platform 9 ¾ and while not fiction, the gruesome images of Jack the Ripper still haunt the passages leading through the forgotten parts of the city.

And let us not forget that Spike and Drusilla were once from here and that Oliver begged for more at some point in time.  Let’s also remember that Canary Wharf was attacked by Cybermen or that Nick's High Fidelity record store is tucked between other crumbling business in the cheaper side of town. 
 

RomComs have their lovers meet outside the National Gallery in front of the lions. Diagon Alley is hidden somewhere in this city an hidden inside the tunnels are tales of secret meetings and deceit.

There are countless moments that we think of when we think of Europe.  It calls up images of Arthurian Legend or pilgrimages from the Canterbury Tales.  London is always at the center of it all and has continued to be there throughout the ages of literature.  Because of this, it is with a firm hand and tone, that I am declaring London to no longer be the city in which we believe that Queen resides or one in which we even call a part of our world.

London, is not a real place. London, is a book that we somehow have the ability to step inside and have been granted the privilege to walk its pages.

You can find Caitlyn Tendicks pictures here at http://www.flickr.com/photos/97205176@N06/.  Go give her love and then like me on Facebook.

Neil Gaiman on Writing and Werewolf Goldfish

 I apologize now for all the air quotes that I will be using in this post.

I was getting a tad bit irritated today. I'm sure friends and family are going to claim that I may have called them and ranted at length about the state of writing and the advice that is out there for writers. I'm sure they'd even go so far as to say that I was shrieking at them. I find that the people in my life over exaggerate.

In the past week, I have listened to countless writing podcasts and have read interviews with people who have boiled it down to a list of bullet points on what an aspiring writer should do, not to get published, but to write a book. Now, that sentence alone makes me want to rebel in the worst way. If you are sitting back and wondering how to write a book I don't think you should be writing a book. Now, I'm not talking about sitting back and wondering how to get published or how to work through writers block or if you should even attempt to write something. I think everyone who writes goes through those questions. I'm talking about the actual writing process. It is not a thing you can Google nor is it something that you can obtain from a handout sheet. Just because there are handy little formatted guides out there, it doesn't mean they hold the magical answers that fill your brain with the knowledge of how to write a book. They probably aren't very specific on where you should start, what your characters should do, or if you are even doing this writing thing 'correctly'. If those are your questions, and I mean this in the nicest way, I'm thinking its time to look for another hobby. If you don't embrace the answer 'just write' then you are going to struggle relentlessly over something that you probably don't have much of a passion for to begin with.

Apparently, I am alone in thinking this, however, since there are countless 'how to' blogs out there and podcasts, all giving step by step instructions on how to write a novel.

I then became a bit more agitated over the answers that were given when it became apparent that, according to some, there is a formulaic, fill in the blanks process that apparently can be used as a template for 'aspiring writers'. Then, the podcasts I was listening to, told very generic stories of how to gain inspiration in order to fill in those blanks on the mad libs sheet of writing. As I was listening and reading to all of this, one thing kept crossing my mind.

I have never done any of that.

Which of course promptly sent me on some sort of existential crisis where I doubted myself as a writer and wondered if I had been doing it wrong all these years and if this was a pipe dream bla bla bla. Then I found this.

 Thank whoever is out there, for Neil Gaiman.

Inspiration is not something that you can find on a Google search engine (well, you can but it's usually a fluke). Where do I find my inspiration is not a question that can be answered by someone that isn't you. These writing tips and these idea's of story boarding are alright, I suppose. While I don't particularly use them, I can see how they could be helpful for a jumping off point. But here's the thing. When you are inspired, you are inspired. You want to create. You want to write. Inspiration rarely comes from a rigid plan or a bullet point that was listed in a blog or podcast by someone who has already gone through the process.

Gaiman mentions in his video that inspiration happens to everyone. Writers just tend to take a bit more notice of it. This holds true. Inspiration is a jumbled mess of random thoughts that seem to always happen when you least expect it. It isn't something you can create by following a formula. I think that's what irritated me. The idea that you can become a successful writer with enough Google searches and by following AB and C not only takes the respect out of writing for people who have a genuine talent, but takes some of the mysticism out of it as well. Now, I'm not saying this process has never worked before but I think that this type of writing process gets old fast and it loses some of the very essence of what makes writing good.

My opinion (which may not work for you) is to write. Go into your story not knowing how it's going to end or what your characters are going to do in relation to the plot. Let them tell you. Let yourself learn your story and become excited about it like a reader would. Be a fan of your own work because if you're not a fan of your writing, you cannot ask anyone else to be either.

Neil Gaiman, thank you for soothing my writing woes and using werewolf goldfish to do so. Bless you, sir. Bless you.

Disagree with me? Want to point out something that I missed because I tend to get overly ranty in moments like this and pass over key points or contradict myself? Comment or message me. :)

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