Thank goodness for long weekends and lazy days , the perfect time to write and re-write.
I think I have let go of quite a few words in my manuscript draft, some I knew deserved to go others I was quite attached to. Trying to find that balance and retain what I think is the voice of the story is proving both challenging and yet inspiring. It is like I am able to write a whole new book. The biggest conundrum at the moment is the order of the story , breaking that emotional connection or the story as I see it in my minds eye , my memory to what would "read" better.
I am rather fond of the passage below - the thing is I still feel it , I see it , so it can stay for a little while longer. #TheSuitcase
. The Australian bush can withstand all, fire, flood, tempest. The trees stand strong unbreakable, a gentle flutter of leaves or a force of winds they stand with purpose and being. As I sat under a native gum fidgeting with its harsh bark, I lay my head against its trunk as if by some magical power of nature I could hug the trees strength into my soul. I had nothing to give, nothing to lose.
I sensed him first the hairs on my arms standing erect as they shimmied up my neck, the rush cooling my body in the stifling heat. In the distance he was walking towards me, striding confident, the hunter retrieving its prey. Familiar feelings began to rise within as my body betrayed my mask of bravery, goose bumps popped on my skin, bile swirled in my throat, the knot twisting in my stomach was choking the breath out of me. Closing my eyes, the north wind seared my nostrils as I gently took an inward breath. Tilting my head to the sky I said a silent prayer to some higher power to help me be safe , stay strong .
As he approached he eyed me warily the hunter not quite sure his prey is slayed.