Sarah Barnard

Magical Portals, Spaceships and flying cars….

What if….

My favourite phrase, ever.

“What if…”

what ifIt’s a brilliant pair of words, it opens up so many possibilities. I just love it.

That tiny little phrase opens doors and makes the imagination spin off in all sorts of interesting directions. I’m sure you’ve played the game too. Even on a day to day level it makes you think, makes you wonder. What if I don’t bother getting up? What if I try something different for dinner? What if I learn something new? What if this or that happens?

Then there are the more day dreamish What if’s and those are what really spark my imagination.

If someone disappeared, what if they didn’t just run away? What if they were abducted? What if they went willingly and then ended up trapped?

What if magic was real? What if we could get to another world at the flick of a switch? What if aliens are visiting us but we just don’t see them?

What if I write a book? Or several….

What if, is dreams, flights of fancy and talking to yourself. For me, What if sparks fantasy, space travel and adventure. For others it creates romantic walks on moonlit beaches, or car chases and narrow escapes.

It’s the most incredible key to the door of imagination.

What if you let your imagination loose today?

Spaceships

For the past week I’ve been running through edits for a new series.

The Portal series is complete, and although there may be a couple of prequels at some point, I’m not enjoying writing them right now so they’re back in storage, gathering dust until they become intriguing again.

But the new thing….

There’s no magic, but there are spaceships!

Earthlink: Impact.

Earthlink: ImpactSage is eighteen years old and, ever since she can remember, there’s been a voice in her head. She’ll tell you that she doesn’t hear voices, they don’t tell her to do anything. It’s just a single voice, and it doesn’t speak, it screams. She hears an unending scream as if the voice is someone in constant agonising pain.

She’s been told she’s hallucinating. She’s spent time in psychiatric care and on strong drugs that cut her off from her feelings, and she hates all of it.

But she’s not hallucinating, the voice is all too real and Sage has been watched for years in the hope that she’s not the only one who can hear. When Sage puts her life in danger, and it’s clear that she is unique, intervention is necessary.

Anger, hope and losing the fight.

Sometimes life conspires to send a message repeatedly until you sit up and take notice. You can call it the Cosmos, God, or coincidence, or whatever you like, but it happens. This is nothing to do with writing, everything to do with life and words.

Warning, Rant coming up.

A couple of days ago I noticed one of those “If you’re a nice person you’ll copy this status and change the world.” things on facebook. Within an hour it was all over my friends list. I can’t remember what it was for. It won’t change the world, it won’t change attitudes, or find a cure, or whatever. Seriously, it won’t. There are better ways of making a difference. Read More…

Day three…

I think I see a pattern….

On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me, three French hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree.

Unwanted GiftsDecember 27th.

On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me, three French hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree.

The day began bright and early and just as the sun was rising. I woke, worried that the damned turtle doves had been eaten, or escaped, or just flown away. But, no, they were happily sitting on the roof of the dove cote and they appear to have been decorating. Lovely. It’s a good job you left some seed for them. It was sort of fun feeding them this morning. Scatter some seed and watch them come to eat. They are rather cute, very decorative. I suppose they’ll stay as long as I keep feeding them. Would they survive if I let them go wild though? The sun, when it came up fully was gloriously bright, although still very cold. I need a large, strong coffee with my breakfast, or I’ll not function through today. Read More…

Day two…

This is just the beginning, poor Isobel.

On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree.

Unwanted GiftsDecember 26th. Boxing day.

It may not be snowing but it’s cold and the garden is frozen solid where it’s not an icy swamp. No tree planting can commence in the near future. I hope the tree will survive being just dumped in an icy puddle outside the back door. No way was I going to walk down the garden in the dark, and anyway it’s sheltered by the back door so the tree should be fine. Aren’t they dormant if they have no leaves? Sort of like hibernating but without a cave, or fur. Read More…

A pear tree?

From my good friend, Isobel, who has had me in stitches at this….

On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me, a partridge in a pear tree.

Unwanted GiftsDecember 25th. Christmas day.

It’s not snowing, no White Christmas for me this year.

It started out just like the song, which sounds lovely when you’re singing it.

On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me, a partridge in a pear tree. Read More…

Where it began.

It seems that Lily isn’t quite done with me yet.

The Portal Between opens with Lily living in our world and she appears to be in her mid thirties. She lives in an old farmhouse, with her son, Andrew, that she claimed had been in her family for several hundred years (The Map and The Stone, and The Portal Sundered.)

We know she has a sister, Heather, who is mentioned in The Portal Between and named in Child of the Portal, and we found out that she was Mistress of the land beyond the portals but she never shared the name she gave that land and she didn’t talk about her childhood much either. Read More…

Welcome home, Lads.

Today I saw a soldier cry.

He was marching, with his regiment, eyes front and proud, with tears rolling down his face. Read More…

Sam.

I’ve just interviewed Lily. I’ve just finished NaNoWriMo for another year. So, I now have my annual, “what next?” to answer. From this year’s NaNo challenge I have what looks, on initial inspection, a set of at least 3 stories with the germs of more. I’ve pulled out the first story and have it separated from the rest so I can work on it and hopefully have it ready for publication soon.

But in the meantime, I get the impression that some of you haven’t had enough of the Portal stories yet…….

This is the opening of something I have bubbling away in the background and may publish at some point in the not too distant future. It began life as a NaNoWriMo challenge in 2006.

paperKate startled at the knock on the kitchen door. She wasn’t expecting anyone. It was the first day back at school for all the children after the long summer holidays and Kate had a couple of hours to herself, but she simply sat at the kitchen table with a large mug of tea. Cradling the warmth in her hands, she felt the spreading numbness as she knew that it wasn’t quite over yet. Lily’s magic was gone but Lily was recovered and well again. But Susan still carried some magic, although she didn’t use it. Kate knew, deep down, that the magic would continue to be part of their lives. Read More…

Interviewing Lily.

Thank you to everyone who offered a question for Lily. She’s answered them all in her own way, and she’s said she’ll come and reply to more in the comments. So, when you’ve finished reading, if there’s something you want to ask then please do.

Hot TeaThe kettle’s hot, curls of vapour rise from the spout, steaming up the kitchen window as pale winter sunshine fails to challenge the boiling water. Pulling mugs from a cupboard, Lily paused, unsure of her imminent guests. On the counter near the kettle sat the grey and purple teapot that Kate had loaned her for today.
“Why did I let her talk me into this?” she muttered as she heard the distinctive sound of a car pulling up outside. Lily threw tea bags into the pot and stuck her head out of the back door. Sure enough, that was her dark green Citroen parked behind Lily’s own red VW Golf.
Lily waved as the car door swung open. “Hi, Sarah, come on in. No-one else is here yet.”
The author pulled a small netbook from the door pocket and tucked it under her arm. “I have their questions here, it’s just you and me.”
“Oh, I thought… Never mind. The kettle’s hot. Cuppa?” Lily stood aside to let the author into her kitchen and she threw tea bags into a mismatched pair of mugs. “Did you bring biscuits?” she called over her shoulder as teaspoon clinked on mugs, stirring the tea and fishing out used tea bags. Read More…