The strangest thing happened to me when I was writing Finding Family at the Cornish Cove.
In the book, Gemma, the main character, is running her late Mum’s café, doing her proud she hopes, and when she is offered the opportunity to expand the business into the building next door. She takes a leap of faith and throws herself into the renovation project whole-heartedly knocking through and building an even bigger and better café space.
A specific picture had popped into my mind, and my fingers flew across the keyboard as I vividly described how I visualised the newly refurbished café. There was no stopping me as the words flew from the inside of my head, down to my hands and I bashed away at that keyboard while I was on a roll.
Now, writing retreats are one of my favourite pastimes. Stick with me here, there is a point, I promise! I have a few friends, who I adore going on a retreat with. Now some people think that no work goes on at our retreats, but I am a stickler for making sure it happens. They don’t call me Sergeant Major Nash for nothing, you know.
Anyhow, I digress. I was sat in a café waiting for one of my friends to turn up to lunch before we went along to our last year’s retreat when I looked up from my phone after messaging to say that I’d arrived and I gasped as I took in my surroundings. A chill ran down my spine, because the café that I was sitting in, was a carbon copy of the café I’d written about in my book. I had never been in this place before, yet I had described it perfectly in my novel, months before. The only difference was that where this café looks over a street, the café in my book overlooks the bay beyond.
How bizarre, is that?
Here are some photos of the inside of that café.
