Yes, this is an Author's Note, but if this is a story you are reading or would be interested in reading in the near future, I suppose this is a note I owe to you.It has been around four years since this tale first came into being, and while readers have been kind with their words, I find that the style of writing can do with a lot of work. In short, it isn't something that would really catch my attention unless I know the story. Given that this is a story I hold close to heart, it deserves a much better retelling, which is why I had taken down a majority of the story, leaving only a bit for future readers to decide if it would be worth their time. However, I know now that this will take a long while, so I'm leaving all of the previous draft here for anyone who finds this story. In the meanwhile, this tale is being thoroughly rewritten into a more presentable draft, currently titled Winter Moon.
For those of you who have already read this draft and have come back, I will be changing some plotlines, though some of them will stay the same. Perspectives and narratives will change; there will be new characters while the ones you know might become fuller and more complete. Who knows, I have a half mind to switch from strict history to a little more fantasy as well, and I hope it will all be for the better. The love you readers have shown this tale tells me you deserve a lot better, and that the time I spend polishing it would be worthwhile.
Here is a short excerpt from the revised draft that might give you a better feel for what this story is becoming:
I found my companion standing by a small house that stood apart from the rest. Her gaze was fixed in the distance, not noticing my presence until I stood directly behind her. It wasn't long before I found the sight that had her looking so despondent, languishing in distant memory. The shadows cast by a solitary lamp illuminated the silhouettes of a young girl and a man, each finding hope in the arms of the other. I wouldn't need the moonlight to perceive the wistfulness on her face—the longing for a life that was long over. I knew then that there was still hope for her—that my effort wouldn't be in vain.
"You were right."
I scoffed. "It doesn't escape my notice that I usually am, but pray, tell, whatever do you mean?"
"The girl," she began, her face settling with the ghost of a smile. "Something about her comforts me. She reminds me of... " Myself. The silence echoed with the remnants of what was never said. I nodded, wrapping my arms around her as she continued to watch them, living in the few moments of respite she'd found before we retreated into the woods once more. "Can I come back into town tomorrow?"
"Of course." The edges of my lip twitched, aching to smile after many a year. It might have been selfish for me to wish that she would find a lifeline in Aoife, but I'm sure you knew it all along. Death is nothing if not selfish.
*****
If you've gotten all the way to the end of this note, thank you for your time. I hope that someday, if not today, you'd come to like the story of Bláthnaid the way I do. I'd really appreciate if you could leave a comment letting me know whether you'd like to read what's coming. Any similar platform recommendations where one can get reader-feedback would also help a great deal. In the meanwhile, stay happy, and stay safe.
Have a great day : )
YOU ARE READING
Tears Unnumbered [EDITING]
Historical Fiction*Featured on multiple official reading lists* Even in death, Bláthnaid has found no peace. With a character that sounds like she has come straight out of myth, she struggles with a burden which no one in the world knows of but has felt. She is no m...