I have competed the rewrite of the YA novel. It is now being ‘re-examined’ and I am nervous. if it hasn’t significantly overcome the first editorial list of shortcomings I am tempted to put it back in the drawer. In some ways it is a relief to be able to leave it aside for a while as writing a piece of work longer than a short story takes me well out of my comfort zone. I have a couple of short stories that I want to knock into shape.
So I look out of the window.
For several minutes, well almost half-an-hour, I watch an enterprising squirrel gain access to the ripe strawberries in their netted bed. The cunning little animal has twigged that Dave and the dogs are off the property; maybe it actually watched them walk down the hill. It climbs on to the top of one of the four short posts that support the green mesh and it launches itself into the middle of the netting. Its weight makes the net sag so it is in contact with the strawberry plants. For a minute or so the squirrel eats. It then scurries to the edge of the netting, with a wide stance and lifting its paws high, and back onto the post where upon it throws itself onto the netting so that it can access another strawberry. And so it goes on. I am so impressed I almost forget to laugh.
The dogs rush back into the yard, the squirrel dashes into the damson tree and I am detached from my work. I have lost contact with my story about reckless Gemma so I leave my desk to welcome Dave home and to tell him about the flaw in his strawberry defences.
Wendy