Recovering slowly, must have been hit by a bagful of doorknobs!

Still the mind cogitates, and what is interesting me is the development of the fictional location for my stories. Something always happens somewhere; nowhere is a ‘place’ in this context.
I take Preston’s Valley, and Threeways, the Emp and The Hall, for real. They have long since passed the stage of being temporary places available to the activities of characters in a book.
I know of no like spot; the valley and everything in it has to have been ‘borrowed’ from a somewhere in my life. Bits of my existence with some merit to them have won a chance to live again, to show what I had liked about them in the first place.
I will pursue more of these ideas tomorrow.


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