, , , , , , , ,

Island Life, Word Birds & Process #19

It’s less about having two left feet and more that I’m putting my dancing shoes on the wrong ones. (And me a trained ballerina … at least I know what bloodied toes feel like…)

In the aftermath of the excitement, the reality of this edit is setting in. I’m still committed and as excited as I was last week. The task is nonetheless daunting. That said, I stuck to the plan and at the crack of Thursday’s new moon, embarked on my new draft. I’ve abandoned an entire plot-line. (It ought never to have been there frankly, but at the time it seemed like a great idea.)  Huge chunks of backstory are being flung out or set aside to be rewritten as good old ‘show not tell.’

And my title has gone, largely because the story wasn’t about … well, it wasn’t… Knowing what it is about makes the possibility of whatever mayhem lies ahead less scary. (The new title is lush!)

My crow is back – it’s September and the leaves on the birch tree are beginning to shed. I can see her – my favourite word bird – on the topmost branch, a reminder that it’s up to me and any time I’m up for it, I can join in.

heart crows

In other news – later in the day, the divine Amanda Jennings – author of In Her Wake – messaged me to the effect she’d been featured on BBC Radio Berkshire recommending Ghostbird! She called it ‘poetic,’ ‘a beautifully written hug’ and ‘utterly haunting.’ Being discussed on the radio was a bit of thrill and no mistake.

But, like a ballerina, a writer is only as good as her newest dance. Pass me the plasters, Marjory; I can feel the old fouetté rond de jambe en tournant coming on…

ballet shoes