The more I work with a story, and-okay, I’ll be honest here, the more people who read and offer feedback, the more I delve into my writing and rework it. I know that it is a bit like a patchwork quilt, a mosaic of tiny little pieces that all come together.
But it’s a slow and ongoing process, for sure!
Anyway- I just revised the opening of When the Wind Calls. Let me know what you think?
Kijah rushed through the last of the weeding, knowing she would hear about it from her mother. But that would be later. She straightened up, and wiped her hands on her sweater. She’d probably hear about that, too. She sighed. It was never good enough. And she never had the patience to do the tedious maintenance. She didn’t exactly hate the small farm, nested into vacant building space on the lower side of the city. It just wasn’t very fun for her. As she looked around, making sure she hadn’t missed her bare minimum, she got a solid bump behind her knee, and her leg buckled.
“Bumper!” she exclaimed, turning around to deal with the silvery-grey nuisance. Goats kept more easily within the city, but Bumper was a master escape artist and pest. She smiled as the yearling looked up at her with adoration in her eyes, and chard in her mouth. Kijah retrieved the poor greens and tried to tuck them back into the soil, and then grabbed a handful of grain to bribe the little miscreant back over to the herd in the neighboring meadow.
Then she took one last look around, in a hurry now. Satisfied that she didn’t notice anything glaring at her, she ducked around the back shed and down the alley that led to the canals. She broke into as easy run, muscles pumping a steady rhythm. The light spring breeze felt good, as she headed along the canal that led away from the city.
She knew she had to be home by Nibbin’s fourth pass, to do evening chores. But the rest of the day was blissfully hers.
