After my slightly longer than hoped for hiatus from writing and editing I’m back! After an arduous and, frankly, dull series of setbacks, I have got a working computer and can return to music blaring as I work. Huzzah! I’ve kept busy during my enforced break - not least with the appearance of some very special photos.
As many readers will know, last year I lost my beloved Gramps. It was sad, although not entirely unexpected given his ongoing health problems. I miss him greatly, and this time of the year is particularly difficult. When he passed, I was tasked with several actions - writing his eulogy, clearing out his old furniture, and scanning in the small mountain of photos that had accrued over his lifetime. Photos of him and my Nan with friends, on holidays, and with their children. Thousands of photos found their way to me, all carefully stored in a haphazard pile in a laundry basket. Eek. Thankfully, a very kind gentleman in the village where I live stepped in, and has spent the last year carefully sorting, scanning, and putting the delicate old images into albums for me. What a superstar.
Although the endless task is not yet complete, I have now had several of these albums returned to me. And what a delight they are. The photos go back for around 150 years, showing this branch of my family in full glory. I’m fascinated, not least by the inclusion of images of my Great-Nan. Nellie died in childbirth, and talk of her was never permitted when my Gramps and his twin were young, and it was understandably a sensitive subject even into his older years. So this is the first time I’m seeing most of these photos - seemingly of her wedding and honeymoon in Ilfracombe, Devon. Her happiness shines through the camera lens. What a tragedy that her life was cut so short.
Her story is just one of many in the family that is emerging in the wake of these photos. One female relative is pictured as part of a group, so far as I can tell, that were employed as wartime radio operators. Another sent a set of postcards, telling of extensive travels in the early 20th century. Whatever else my family were or were not, they didn’t seem to restrict the women in their activities. At least not successfully!
I know of several tragic events in the family history. Betrayals, infighting, monetary gain and loss. There are many more that are guesses, with only hints given from the images and notes that are scattered through time. All of which provide wonderful fodder for the present generation (me!) to tell the stories and work them into new writing. But the question remains… is that ethical? Is it fair? Of course, as writers, we draw inspiration from around us. A news article that’s mentally filed away for later. A press release from researchers that might prompt a throwaway comment on page 253. But where do we draw the line of being inspired by true events? Should we leave skeletons in the cupboard where they belong? Or should we use them, tell those stories so that our loved ones, and their loved ones, live on in print?
So when you finally read the stories that I’m developing, remember that it is all fiction. Every single word of it. And if there’s occasionally a character that sparks familiarity in some way, well… that’s just a coincidence.