Wednesday, 4 October 2017

Re-visiting Texts

I sat, yesterday afternoon, in a wooden chair on a rectangular patio with the sun blessing my face. Blue tits and sparrows struck glancing blows at the bird feeders; roses stretched overblown petals for one last feed. October already...when summer and autumn exchange notes and tussle for supremacy. Will we stay or will we release?

I have paid sporadic attention to my novel this year. Days of writing forward regardless; weeks of neglect. But yesterday afternoon, with the sun in my face, I read through my notes on the novel. Pages of notes detailing scenes to include; themes to track; images that need consolidation and commitment. I have written questions: Does this character need more complexity on the page? What are the tracks and patterns of desire? Is it enough of a story? What is it to be lost and then found?

We are still here - writer and text - keeping a kind of faith. I cannot abandon you, and you will not let me go until we are both sated. Finish the work; be the last leaf that holds on until the moment is ripe for release.

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