Ch..ch..ch..changes....

Using a clay bowl, sShe scooped some water out of a large pottery jar into a clay bowl and gave it (the bowl) to me. It The Water tasted stale and flat (?). It didn’t matter. I was thirsty.

She watched me drink it all.

“Now you must leave,” Hella said.

“Are you kicking me out?”

“No kicking,” she said raised an eyebrow at me. “But you should go.”

“I only just got here.”

“It is too dangerous for you to be here.” 

I wasn't sure if she meant for her or for me.

“But it’s dark…and freezing-bloody-cold out there,” I whined. I sounded so pathetic. Some brave Viking warrior, I was. Even in this light I could see Hella’s raised eyebrow, her smirking lips.

"You might stay alive in the dark and the cold," she said.

"Maybe..." I muttered.
(break here next two lines drop to new section below)

 “There is no more food. You must go into the mountains … join with Stig.”

“Stig?”

She lifted the lamp onto the floor and drew a map in the dirt to show me where to go. A slanted tree, a standing rock with a sign carved in it, a cleft in a cliff face. I wished I had something to take notes with. And on.

She gave me a hat made of some matted fabric. It smelt funny and for a moment I wondered if it doubled as a smoked fish holder, but I took it anyway. I picked my knife back up and put it through my belt.

“Got any arrows?” I asked. I thought it was worth a try. (where’s the bow been all this time??)

I jogged, even though my limbs seemed to be made of pulse with lead and my lungs felt raw inside. It was dark and freezing cold – keeping moving felt like the best option. Still, the sound of five precious arrows knocking around in the quiver/horn (research) at my shoulder back cheered me up. Hella’s quite a magpie. And it wasn’t just the arrows and quiver. The thick blanket slung over me and pinned with a brooch at my shoulder was pretty handy as well.

She’d said head east and south, although all my orienteering experience (half a day a few years back for EOTC – check first book) had been in daylight in the southern hemisphere. I had no idea how to tell the direction at night.  And how slanted was the slanted tree (she told me to turn right at)? 25degrees, 45 or 60 perhaps? I hadn't bothered asking Hella. Like me, I couldn't imagine she was much chop at trigonometry.  

Just in case you wanted to know what I've been up to, amongst other things

Playing tag...

I was tagged here by fab fellow NZ author Phillip W. Simpson and I'm playing

What's the working Title of your WIP?
Barquing Mad: A Mystery
I really like this title but worry that people will think its about a dog and its not. I probably will have to change it but I think the words 'A Mystery' imply you can't take the first few words at face value

Where did your idea come from for your book?
I started this book so long ago I don't remember. I do remember submitting the first few thousand words to the NZSA for this brilliant open critique session they held at Old Government House in Auckland in 2004 and Graeme Lay and Tania Roxborogh critiqued it and were very positive and encouraging and said nice things to me. I think the biggest criticism was the stupid character names I had (they didn't use the word stupid - they were really very nice) and the names are now all different. The bully was called Mimsy Squat-Cottles (I blame famous NZ actor Michael Hurst who once said this name and got it stuck in my brain) and Prunella. I still like Mimsy Squat-Cottles but she is now Vanessa Blunt which is a little easier to read and a tad more modern and Prunella became Sally.

And this is what I ended up with:

What really happened to Sally's Dad lost at sea 7 years before? What were they really up to on that mysterious polar expedition? And why has her Mum suddenly chucked in her job? Why won't her teacher and the school principal and the school bully leave her alone? Sally needs her wits, her courage, her best friend, her best friends chauffer and even her brother's help to overcome the dangers and discover the truth.

What genre does your book fall under?
Children's mystery

What actors would you pick to play your characters in a movie rendition?
They probably haven't been born yet :) although Dakota Fanning would have been perfect for the 12 year old heroine Sally Barque when she was younger. I'd be played by Martin Freeman.

What is a one sentence synopsis of your book?
Sometimes parents get lost and it's up to their children to find them.

How long did it take you to write a first draft of your manuscript?
I think this one has been on the slow burner for about ten years. I finished it early last year but it wasn't quite right. Nearly done with the final draft and believe it actually makes sense now.

What other books would you compare this story to within the genre?
It's a cross between Famous Five and Stormbreaker

Who or what inspired you to write this book?
Sheer tenacity. It was just one of those stories that I kept coming back to. I could see, inside the hot mess, a fun story that I wanted to tell, desperately trying to get free (probably from the shackles of all those commas).

What else about the book might pique the readers interest?
I really think its just the most unexpected little tale. Its got some girl power going on.

In the spirit of this game I am tagging five more fabulous NZ authors to have a play

Tania Roxborogh

Tania Hutley

Maureen Crisp

Sue Copsey

Fifi Colston

Too long a to-do list to do

It is now December here in the antipodes. It is now no longer possible to avoid Christmas and all its attendant business. I have too long a to-do list to do. Lots of twiddly little administrative stuff for my eldest and the exchange programme she will be on next year, things that need to be tied up, wrapped up or signed off before the long holidays start, dog vaccinations, cattery bookings, prescriptions updated before holiday mode makes everything inaccessible and no longer bookable. Hams to be ordered, presents to be bought, finances to be fretted over. And in amongst it all a book to write. I thought up a lovely little paragraph this morning whilst shampooing the noggin in the shower - a hundred profound little words that pack quite a wollop. Now only 31,820 to go - yikes :) (thats a lot of shampoo and showering).

And yesterday I found myself straying from my work in progress. I was going over my Young Adult novel and it sucked me in. I love this story. It has some difficult elements to it - it contains a difficult subject. When I described some of it to another writer last friday she looked aghast but as a whole I think it works. But I must hide it away for now. I want to spend more time with it, to fluff, titivate and massage it till you need to wear sunglasses to look at it. But I must focus on the WIP and make lots of lovely little paragraphs join hands and dance around the room together in perfect harmony. The grass is always greener eh? I didn't love my YA quite so much when I was in the middle of it trying to push through to the end. When it was hard work that made me want to tear my hair out. Its an easy date now, familiar and comfortable. I know what to say to it and what it likes to eat. I still have strong feelings for it. I'm still getting to know WIP and it doesn't always say what I want to hear, I'm not sure what it needs and I have to concentrate on what it is trying to tell me. I just keep telling myself as the story grows we will grow closer and when it is finished I will know it just as well as I know my YA.

Flattery will get you everywhere...

I think this particular plaigarism issue is unresolvable. I don't think there will ever be consensus on this particular case because of the person involved. I never thought about plaigarism much before because my brain is like a very holey seive (more a colander perhaps, or a rusty bucket with shotgun bullet holes in the bottom) so I thought it unlikely I would transgress. I still think I'm unlikely to transgress and i certainly wouldn't do so knowingly. Yikes! But I guess I'm a little more wary now (forewarned, forearmed?) and I'm definitely ready to move on. You too? Excellent.

The fabulous Fifi has done it again and created a new set of superb velvet artworks which you can have a sneek peek at here. If you live in Wellington I am jealous, as these and other works will be exhibited and available to buy at the Deluxe Cafe from December 20. I bought one of the lovely ladies last year for my Mum and Dad's new house and I covet it something chronic. It really is gorgeous. My favourite so far this year is the navy boy in blue. Make sure you click on the photo to get a closer look...Sigh...

I was visited by a stylist yesterday courtesy of my Westfield win. He had the most fabulous shiniest winkle-pickers I've ever seen and super Ed Hardyesque tattoos on his arm. And he was a master of flattery and made me feel beautiful for the hour he was here. Who needs fashion. Just having someone telling you loads of nice things is all you need :) although of course I am still looking forward to dropping $1000 on clothes at St Lukes next week. Yowza

As a publisher is willing to look at my current junior WIP I'd better go finish it. Happy writing folks

They're growing up...

I can't seem to make Creative New Zealand care for me. They still don't want to give me money. And I am still struggling to find out what part of my application is letting me down. Is it my writing, my project, my newbie-ness or my chocolate addiction (I have been trying to get help!). Will they ever give me the big tick? Hmmm - its all very frustrating.

Still these pictures cheered me up no end - my eldest up on high during warm up at the Allstar Cheerleading Internationals held in Auckland recently (her two teams 1st and 2nd equal) and above, my SO and my sweet Halloween baby. (There are only videos of my youngest so I will have to post a piccie of him in the future).

And I am nearly finished a junior fiction novel. It was previously unfinished (at around 32,500 words) because it had plot confusion so I've been editing to tidy that up and have finished that and now just need to write the ending (which I already know). I intend to complete that before we go away on holiday in December. All of you out there will have to keep me honest :)

A Little snippet from my WIP

I'm still plugging away at the YA WIP. Its a slow grind and I still haven't completed the first draft yet but just to give you an idea of how its shaping up here's a very small taste...

She’d said nothing as I’d walked in the back door, but the way she was drying her hands with a tea towel reminded me of that scene in Macbeth where Mrs Macbeth feels like she can’t get the blood off her hands. I was thinking, why did she feel guilty? But her face looked like thunder and as I walked past she put out her hand and stopped me.
“Who do you think you are?” she said, the sound of her voice matching her face. “Don’t you dare leave this house again, without my permission.”
I opened my mouth to say ‘I’m not a little kid,’ and her hand just flew out and caught me on my left cheek. It wasn’t that she was too fast for me. It was that Mum’s don’t slap their fifteen year old sons. That is, no other Mum I’d ever heard of.