Island Life, Word Birds & Process #8
In summer, mist is a vaguer, less assertive thing than its winter sister. Having little resistance to the sun it burns off quickly. And in the sun’s absence, this lethargic heat will do it. Summer mist is short-lived but no less lovely.
You do have to get up early to catch it.
This morning I was. With only one remaining chapter left to write, I joined the birds and they, bless them, flung the final words my way.
The first draft of my SisterBook is done!
I’ve already begun a new pass. Because I edit as I go, the earlier parts of the story in particular are in reasonable shape. I do expect to be challenged once I near the final third.
What larks though! Another story down, another milestone reached: the ‘difficult second novel’ written.