Barefoot Henry and the Stories We Don't Write

The stories we never finish and why they're so important.

Driving into Canterbury with my kids, I found myself thinking about all the stories I’ve never finished. Not as failures—but as part of a life shaped by writing.

The road is narrow, and driving a giant rented Jeep made it more so. My teenage son in the passenger seat eyed the left side. “Uh, kinda close there, Mum.”

I put on The Beatles. Feeling English. But also feeling like a tourist in my own country. I left the UK years ago and coming to visit is, sometimes, like living in the story I didn’t write.

Canterbury has held a mythical place in my heart.

Many years ago, I began a novel set there, having never visited. The book was called The Instructions for A Baby Who Fell From the Sky, or Sky Baby. I never decided on the title because I never finished it. In fact, when I look back at my writing life, most of it remains unfinished.

I have so many book ideas that started with heat and fire and then floundered.

We reached the outskirts of the city, encountering an ancient wall. My nephew thought it was Saxon, not Roman. We struggled to find a parking spot and then tumbled out. The cathedral was hidden from sight, but we began to walk. Quiet, cool rain upon us.

Hundreds of years ago, Henry II walked to Canterbury barefoot, penance for the murder of his best friend, a murder he’d authorized. This story made the streets feel alive, tugging at me like a tiny hook, glimpsed in the waters of a lake.

When I saw the cathedral through an archway, I gasped. Wandering through it with six children didn’t give me the time to linger that I might have wanted as a younger writer, but I’ve come to realize that the stories I don’t write are just as vital as the ones I do. The stories I play with in my mind, Barefoot Henry, the Sky Baby, become something else when I do get to the page. Some stories are made to be finished, some to be only glimmers.

A writing life, I’ve found, comes from touching moments of illumination. Like the sun through the clouds above the cathedral.

Read: I’m finishing reading Braiding Sweetgrass. Are you reading it with me? I’ve also been loving

Melissa Lee

’s notes about nature. And

Keris Fox

has a great weekly essay about money, which I always enjoy!

I’m also about to read The Arts Trail Killer by Emylia Hall, one of my colleagues at The Novelry. We’re chatting together on Sunday about Grit and Resilience—why you need both to stay in Flow.

If you’re new here, my name is Alice Kuipers and I’m a writer, mother and dog & cat-owner transplanted twenty years ago to the Canadian prairies from England. I’ve published fourteen books in 36 countries and my writing has been described as: “For storytellers and story lovers,” by Kirkus Reviews; ‘Gorgeous, heart-ripping, important,” by VOYA; and “Intense and wonderful” by Bif Naked. Join me for coffee breaks, book conversations, and to share my writing life together.

Xoxo