My Castle, My Book, and my Busy, BUSY Brain

I do not know if it is the jet lag, or the emotional rollercoaster of the past few weeks, or maybe some sort of hallucination as I am on day four of a 500 calorie per day diet (mostly on purpose, but also because I am just too exhausted to be hungry).

But today, All my plans were reduced to dust and I ended up in one of my favourite places on earth.

I am here now, in a room in Hotel Muller where I have stayed twice before.  This is my fourth trip to the castle.  I always come alone, except once when I was here with my wonderful mother in law and Adam when he was in a front pack, just a baby of less than a year old.

I love this place.  It might be my Austrian blood, as I am predominantly Austrian thanks to my father being exceptionally German/Bavarian/Austrian/Czech or whatever he is.  It might just be my active imagination and huge heart.  I don’t care really what the reason is, but this place is one of those places that holds a special kind of magic for me.

I am in two minds about sharing it, because part of the magic was that few people took the pains to come here when I first started to visit.  Now, the place is always crawling with people.

I digress (as I am so often prone to do!)

While I was walking up to the castle, a familiar feeling washed over me.  I was angry at all the tourists and visitors for invading this sacred place.  I felt like somehow the eccentric genius, shrouded with mystery, King Ludwig was being defiled with their presence.  And of course I never think of Ludwig without thinking of Sissy… And that’s how today’s super wave of crazy inspiration began.

“This is NOT your fucking castle!” I felt like saying to anyone not showing an appropriate amount of reverence for this place. “Show some fucking respect!” I wanted to huff at the joke-cracking jackasses on my tour.

So that’s a wee look into my crazy for today, but the REALLY important thing is this:

There’s a book in me, and the chapters, the literary tools, the characters, the plot and the narrator have been invading my senses to the point I fear my heart and head might actually explode.

So here is the first little taste of the first chapter of the book I’ll give myself a year to finish.  Feel free to offer feedback.  This is first draft, zero edit, zero changes.  It kinda just flowed out of my fingers like words and laughter flow out of my mouth…

I’ll also share a few snaps of the day today…  Just because more people read my fucking blog if I include pictures.

This is the face of a woman who got hit with a creative brick… Hope it turns into something I finish for a change!
My Castle (not really obviously) Neuschwanstein
It snowed all afternoon, and by early evening everything was melting and birds were singing
Holy CRAP my head is sooooo full of ideas. Freaking magic this place!
Waterfall on the way up to the castle.  Water is going to be a BIG metaphor and literary tool in this story… You’re only getting the first few hundred words though, until it is all done!

OKAY!  Ready?  Here it is:

Soundtrack chapter one:

Enigma – return to innocence; Natalie Merchant – Wonder;  Propinquity (I’ve Just Begun to Care) – Michael Nesmith (1971); Something is Worrying Me – Otis Redding AND the MOST important song for the first chapter is: 

Wagner – ‘Parsifal’ – Act I Prelude

So it begins:

My name is Kathryn. With a K and a Y. Like the lubricant jelly.  I am not Kathy. Sometimes Kate. Most often Katie.


I’m the narrator for the story you’re settling in to read. I’ll be telling you this story from a second person omniscient perspective just to fuck with you and push the limits of your logic. Basically, what that means is I am intimately and completely immersed with, and entirely knowledgeable of all the characters and events you are about to get seriously fucking attached to as this story unfolds.


This story, or at least hundreds (if not thousands) of stories just like this have been told through the ages.  The only thing that sets this apart is that I can swear to you that every word is true, as queer and confusing as the story appears, it is all as real as you are.


What I can assure you as you go through these pages that lay before you, as yet undiscovered is this:


Love and passion are eternal and unbreakable. They are also powerful forces for harm or healing, and sometimes the love that filters down through our human experience gets steeped in tragedy unless the right kind of magic comes along to change the cycle.


Hate can also be a pretty powerful and unbreakable force, but that’ll become dreadfully clear in time as well.  And fuck hate.  Hate is not what I am here to convince you of.  It is destructive and cowardly.  I’m here to prove to you, once and for all, that true Love is immortal and eternal.  Time is not what you think it to be, and magic is a force far greater and more common than you can currently imagine.  


This is a story about Cecilia Maria Jamieson. One of the best bitches to ever walk this earth. It is a story about her lover Stephen, her husband Mark, Mark’s many lovers (one lover in particular being Mrs. Cassandra Church), and at least one incarnation of her life lived in the 21st century, to heal the hurt of the 19th century tragedy she once endured.


If you’re already confused, you might want to trade this book in for some Fifty Shades of Grey smut; or perhaps even some self-help bullshit, because it only gets weirder as we delve into this delicious, destructive, inspiring and absolutely true story.


Before I acquaint you with the characters in this story, let me tell you a few things:


First, I regularly practice appalling language. Unlike the pristinely perfect protogaonist CeeCee, who wouldn’t say shit if her mouth was full of it.


You’ll see me slip in and out of story-teller mode, and you’ll notice me telling you about things I could not have witnessed because I was not there. Trust me when I tell you that every detail is accurate and honest.


Second, you’ll see that there’s a list of songs at the top of each chapter. You can play these while you read the chapter, on repeat or in the background. You can also listen to the songs after you’ve read the chapter and let it all sink in. You’ll get a taste of everything form Wagner to Black Sabbath throughout this story, so I am hopeful that this journey together will expand, not only your faith in magic, Love and reincarnation, but also your musical knowledge. If you don’t want to listen to the songs at any point, I give exactly zero fucks. But trust me when I say, the soundtrack for each chapter will have meaning and multiply your enjoyment if you just suck it up and trust me on this shit.

Shall we begin?

Okay… there’s heaps more but that is all anyone is going to see until it is finished.  Except Phteven and a few other mad keen reader friends and editors.  Good God I hope I can finish this, because it feels like it is going to be a very, VERY good story.

I might just be delirious from hunger and lack of sleep though, so please throw your feedback right at me if you have the time and inclination.




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