I pondered that question readers and interviewers love to hurl at authors earlier this month. You know the one I mean, don't you?
Where does your inspiration come from?
I long found it so hard to answer, and since it seems to be the bait favoured by scammers nowadays, I've become wary of it. It is, however, an interesting question, and one I think all writers, musicians, and artists of any ilk ought to reflect upon. This morning, I decided to start my day off from the day job as a heritage tour guide (guide-conférencier) by visiting a couple of the numerous remarkable sites in my neck of the woods here in the Brière, southern Brittany. In other words, the tour guide gave himself a guided tour. After all, why not?
The influence the folklore, landscape, and heritage of Brittany has on my fiction can't be overstated, and the inspiration (or awen, as I prefer to call it) with which this ancient land feeds my imagination is nowhere more apparent than in Dead on the Dolmen, my mystery novel featuring Oscar Tremont, Investigator of the Strange and Inexplicable.
I followed up my pilgrimage to Kerbourg with a visit to an ancient bridge I had been meaning to cross ever since hearing about its existence several years ago. The Gras Bridge, which is technically a ford, dates from the 1st century and was restored in 2014. It is a stone walkway for most of its length and spans the river Mès in the middle. Along the banks of the Mès reeds sway in the wind, and it is this plant that is used to thatch the roofs of the traditional cottages (including mine) here in the Brière.
I'm sure you can appreciate that I no longer have any doubts about how to answer The Question. Awen is all around me, in the stones, the soil, the wind, the water, the reeds, and the trees, and it has been there all along.
