Swashbuckler 3 is out.
No sign of Keira but she could always play Mama. Though I'd prefer ... I dunno ... maybe Frances O'Connor.
Anyway, it looks like this:
In the meantime, I'm working on a picture book (details soon) to be ready in time for Christmas.
800 words. How hard can it be?
Those are 800 hard-won words, I tell you.
Actually I think I might have crept up to 850 this week with the utterly necessary insertion of an Enid Blyton-style feast.
"Pink lemonade." Two of the most evocative words in the world.
The feast was largely written in the august Redmond Barry Reading Room over a couple of lunch breaks. Everyone else in there is solving quantum physics questions, or drafting their next Miles Franklin finalist. I'm sitting staring at the walls and agonising over whether to include chocolate crackles or pink lamingtons.
But it's a fascinating business watching your words transform into pictures and seeing characters you've dreamed up take shape - and giving up those images to allow that shape to form in someone else's mind and emerge through their drawing.
Great fun.
No comments:
Post a Comment