Wordsmithing: This feeling called ... loss

Monday, 24 August 2009

This feeling called ... loss

Near Edgeware is out with the cold readers and officially closed - for the moment.
I opened up the file twice yesterday, just to look and see that it was still there.

The first three chapters of Book Two are written so I can pick it up easily and get back into the flow. I know where Jess is and that with both Caleb, and her parents on their way there things could get awkward.

I didn't know what to do with myself without the writing to fill endless minutes (ignoring everything I should be doing with the same minutes). I researched and filled my head with information that meets a very exact list of requirements I once read.The new book should be a one off.

Finding working titles that are designed to make me smile but have some relevance to the book is one of my favourtite parts of the process. I have selected FOUND' ER as the new book's working title and considering how convoluted the whole thing is FOUND'ER is a good title - someone needs to.

FOUND'ER WORD COUNT: 1,785 (pages 1 to 5)

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RETURN: YA Paranormal Romance

I was running late. But, it was nothing I couldn’t make up with a bit of effort. I shook my head. Confident and happy? I smiled. Increasing my stride, I pushed until the muscles in my legs burned. I kept up the pace even when the hill grew steeper.

Magpie Lane was hardly wider than a ribbon that edged the woods but that didn’t stop traffic using it to get to the motorway quicker. Large trucks and fast cars loved Magpie Lane. They sent vibrations running through me rising from the soles of my trainers. I felt the disturbance in the ground, even before the air pressure tried to knock me off balance. I hunched my shoulders as the cab hauling a container spat stones up at me.

Jogging on the spot, at the entrance to woodland, I ached to leave the road and go inside. My Mum was probably still asleep but I could hear her you-never-know-what might-be-in-there lecture buzzing on repeat inside my head. I should run safe. Not even I would argue that running through the woods on my own was the best definition of safe but I wanted to run-wild and the woodland offered me that. This early, I should be safe from axe murderers or perverts in the trees and besides, I was fast.

I jogged down the slope into the trees. From two paces in, I felt different. Freer. It felt so right. Running in the woods did great things for my style. Avoiding the roots and dodging branches forced my stride longer, I had to step higher. The woodland, The Weald, was only a sliver of ancient woodland that the developers forgot to build on but it felt like it could have been anywhere. Everywhere. At any time. The oaks and beech trees dominated the space and the skinny, silver-birches squeezed up beside them. I laughed. For a second, the woods reminded me of school and I needed to run a lot faster.

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Monday, 24 August 2009

This feeling called ... loss

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