Because no matter what we write, we must give some of ourselves over the story, to the writing, to the characters, the sacrifice every writer must make to get it right.
Skylands Manor is the writer’s paradise. It is sprawling, rolling hills, is it decrepit fountains, it is aged stone statues styled for Artemis and Diana and Aphrodite, arms missing, moss coloring their feet. It is tucked away corners where rakish lords can seduce adventurous ladies, great lawns, perfect for early morning duels, the hope of ballrooms and back patios, where one escapes the oppressive heat but finds a new type of heat in the arms of a lover.
This house, specifically, has called to my baser self for over a year. What does that have to do with writing? Everything.