Whenever I think of this statement, I think of the movie Inkheart, which is a 2008 fantasy adventure film based on the novel by Cornelia Funke. It is one of my favorite fantasy adventure movies for the family to watch.
The words that the principal character uses affects characters of stories and someone from the real world swaps with a character in the book that he is reading. The books are in a Trilogy, so I am going to buy the series. Here is a link if you want to check it out for yourself or your kids. https://amzn.to/3vDeBWe
It makes me wonder what a world would be like if our words have that much power. There are some people who believe that our lives are a manifestation of the words that we use.
There are days when some words I have written jump out at me as if they were some sort of premonition that I had written into my life. For a while I worried that maybe, just maybe, I had the gift of the Ink hearts, but actually I would not want some things I write to happen.
In Book 3 of the Chronicles of Nadine, Elizabeth has a rather horrific experience that I am sure would bring nightmares to many people. It would certainly keep many traumas counsellors in business. Although I do not write horror, there are some pretty horrific things that happen to good people and I want my books to have elements of the actual world.
While I am on the writing journey, I do like to work on self development and so I have been doing a series of courses about how to use our words and frame experiences to shape our future. I wonder how that may work for some of my characters, who knows, I may write a bit of self development into the books as well. I can think of a few characters in the series who definitely need it.
What am I Currently Writing? _ Extract of Book 3 – Th Call of the Ancients
Meira stared at the cracked stone and wax tablet. Would she be punished for this? Perhaps it was her sinful nature that caused these things to happen. Perhaps if she had not demanded so much time from her parents, then they would have made enough money for taxes. Then she would not have been sent away. She knew what she must do. She would get up earlier and do her lessons. She would work harder. She would pray that God would take away the selfish desire to play. She would endure the sufferings in silence and make sure she did not cry out. Meira knew she could do better. She could pray harder. She could find ways around the manor to help. Perhaps the cook could give her some vegetables to peel.
She lifted the tablet. There was a chip off the corner of the stone of the tablet. The wax had a dent in it. But that was easy to remedy. But the wooden stylus. Where was that? She checked all around her. But it was gone. Had it rolled away? Tears spilled over her cheeks, already pink with cold.
