Sunday, May 17, 2009

Burnout location and Backlash theme

I was walking back home from Leicester last week and took a detour through Western Park. Those of you who have read BURNOUT will perhaps remember it as the setting for a dead-of-night chase and the digging up of something long-buried. I won't say what - that would be a spoiler!

Western Park, LeicesterSome people have asked me about the feasibility of burying anything in a public park. The plan of the park (above) doesn't give a hint of the extent to which it is split by extensive drifts of trees.

Western Park, Leicester
It would be a confusing place to walk through at night. Easily big enough to get lost in. Easily big enough to bury things without them being discovered.

Two more snaps from my walk to show contrasting images of Leicester. These are connected to my first novel, BACKLASH. The first picture shows the remains of a neo-Nazi poster, stuck on the perspex of a bus shelter. Yes, there are a few people who want to incite racial hatred, even in Leicester. (It is worth pointing out that the poster was immediately reported by the children who use the bus stop and was promptly removed.)

Remains of a poster on a bus shelter

And then to a picture reflecting Leicester's inter-community harmony. Below is the edge of a drift of woodland on Western Park. It was planted in 1993 by volunteers from Leicester's different faith communities. We had Baha'is, Buddhists, Christians, Hindus, Jews, Muslims and Sikhs all working together. Being the organiser, I had to stay on the park all afternoon. It was a cold, wet winter day and the wind was hissing through the grass. But now look at those trees. It makes me smile to see it.

The Inter-faith grove, Western Park, Leicester


Pam said...

You really are such a good writer.
I really hope to get published some day myself.
Writing to me is no longer optional; I seem almost driven.
Look forward to more good posts!

Rod Duncan said...

You are very kind, Pam.

I remember the day I got the letter that told me my first novel was going to be published. It marked a huge transition in the way people saw me: 'hopeless dreamer' to 'respected novelist'. But the reality was - I was exactly the same person the day before and the day after that letter arrived.

My view is that all writers are on similar creative journeys. Whether someone is published or not doesn't make a jot of difference to that central reality.