If you live in the UK, you probably got woken up at 3am by a violent and noisy thunderstorm. I watched it with my wife from our bedroom window, soon to be accompanied by the kids. The lightning was coming down every four or five seconds at one point, and the thunder was loud enough to put the fear of God in anyone.
I love a good thunderstorm. It’s a fantastic spectacle that reminds you how small and weak you are compared to the power of nature (though it also makes you feel a bit smug, being safe inside a house). The best one I ever witnessed was before dawn in Varanasi, India, back in 1993. I couldn’t sleep because the mosquitoes in my room were driving me mad, so I walked to the banks of the Ganges and sat down near the steps where the faithful wash in the holy river. The opposite bank of the river hasn’t been built on and is very flat. Shortly after arriving, a storm began in the east and I spent the next hour watching the lightning tiptoeing across the horizon, followed sometime later by an amazing sunrise.
We went to Kenilworth castle in Warwickshire on Saturday, hoping to attend a medieval festival that included archery and knight combat (I particularly wanted to find an archer to speak to about a tricky shot I need to include in my third Heracles novel). The castle is very beautiful, despite having being blown into ruins by the Parliamentarians during the Civil War, and the area around it doesn’t appear to have changed for hundreds of years. Unfortunately, I got the wrong date, as the event was on Sunday and Monday instead. We still had a great time, though.
Still no news about a paperback version of Son of Zeus yet. I’ve asked the publisher again, so hope to get some news this week.