A Short Update

I admit that I’ve been all over the place: from filming vlogs published to YouTube and planning feature films, to posting seaside photos on Instagram. All my life I’ve acquired and pursued many interests that have landed anywhere on the scale between hobby and passion. But, nothing has ever quite stuck long-term.

Except for writing. More specifically, fiction stories.

I remember as a child spending all my summer time in nature inhabiting made-up characters and following their stories in my head, alone acting out the scenes during my outdoor escapades. When it was too cold to stand outside for more than five minutes, I hid myself away in the nook of the closet my mother cleared out for me and continued the adventures and dramas.

Perhaps we all did that when we were young?

If that is the case, that all children have the freedom of heart and mind for creative storytelling and writing, this knack has morphed into a need now as an adult.

Recently I decided to focus on one fiction novel. Though I’ve stashed away many ideas on my laptop (some partially written), I realized that I have gotten nowhere in my career as a serious writer by working on multiple projects at one time.

Last week I finished a handwritten outline for a fiction story idea (novel length) that has been following me since my husband and I arrived in Maine. It is a hybrid of romance and low fantasy with gothic elements. For now, that is all I will say about this writing project.

Regarding this blog, I plan to continue posting updates on my progress, publishing short writings, and sharing my thoughts on books that I finish.

Thank you for reading, and I hope to be able to “meet” all of you. Please feel free to comment and send an email. Also, visit my Instagram, caitlinrosestuart, if you are interested in books, nature, and cottage/dark academia/Victorian/Edwardian/romance aesthetics.

René Crevel

Passage from Mon Corps et Moi (My Body and I) (1925)

“But since God the Father wants nothing to do with me in His Paradise, the same as yesterday, I must go on using objects, earthly creatures. Today, however, I am not inclined to making advances.

Fortunately the other is here to save me.

The other feels that thinking has gone on too long.

I hear: It’s time to go home.

It’s true, dawn leads to love.

Let’s go.

At home I touch this body, as I have already had the honor to touch others, wishing only to rid myself of my most specific desires, without the hope of satisfying any, or the wish to prolong them.”

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