Reading through Project Albatross, my long-lost post-apocalyptic novel, after a gap of more than twenty-five years, is a little bit of personal time travel.
I remember where I lived when I wrote the story – which city, which house, who I shared with, what my rooms were like, and a fantastic big writing-desk that must have come from a bank.
The music I listened to, which is a major key into certain scenes, is a strong influence.
Likewise the subjects I was studying – which included a scenic diversion from European prehistory into some British archaeology up to the early Mediaeval period. (It’s no surprise that was the year I had no exams, giving me the time and mental space to write a novel.)
The locations I’d lived in and travelled by then also played their part. Poetry, art and arty films.
But it’s the books I’d read, more than anything else, which show up in my memories.
Educational gore from Stephen King, and magical horror from Peter Straub’s Shadowland (still one of my favourite dark fantasy stories).
Madness and oddments and weird structural components from The Ring Master by David Gurr.
All of these strands surface more or less in the story, which I’m still typing up and trying to make sense of my later additions (thank you, Scrivener, for making this easy).
Once I’m finished and have the whole story to push around, it might become clear whether I ought to publish.
More to follow on this. Not sure when.
*Having searched Goodreads for this one, I find out there is a novel on the same subject by Alexander Dumas which, of course, I must now read. #fangirl