Nanowrimo update

This, my friends, is what it's all been about!  The last three and a half weeks of almost daily scribbling tapping at my keyboard, sitting, for the most part, in the sunshine in the conservatory, bringing characters to life.

And now they have all made their appearences in black and white, what to do with them?  The simple answer is, I really don't know!  Some of them I don't like, so they'll be filed away in the "out-takes" file.  Others have more to say than I have had time to write, so I can expand upon them at leisure.

Now it's time to prune out the dead wood, perhaps allowing new growth to spurt through.  Maybe, just maybe, I'll be brave enough, one day, to send it out into the world to seek a publisher.  Maybe.

Here's another brief extract of one of the latest characters for you:

Suri indicated right, and pulled her Mercedes in to the side of the road outside her parent’s house. It was a neat house, newly double glazed with gold rimmed diamond shapes inset into to the tops of the upper windows, just as her mother had requested. Her mother didn’t get her own way in many things, what married Asian woman did? So it was the least Suri could do to give her this small amount of power.


Suri let herself in, hung her coat on the hall peg, dropped her bag on the floor and went into the living room. Her mother stood up, smiled at her, and went into the kitchen to put on the pan of chai. It didn’t matter who arrived at the door, the pan of chai was set upon the heat. Her mother was a welcoming soul.

Suri followed her mother into the kitchen. She bent down and gave her a brief hug.

‘How has your day been, Mammaji?’

‘The usual. Auntie Miriam came round with the baby this morning, I’ve been cooking all afternoon. How was your day, Suribibi?’

‘Hard, but good. I’ve got a new client, so the partners are pleased with me. There should be a decent bonus at the end of the year.’

‘Your father will be so proud of you.’

‘I know. Can I help you with anything?’

‘Yes, you can roll out the millet breads for me. I will fry them. But first, sit down and drink your chai. Go through, I will fetch it for you.’

Suri walked back into the living room and perched on the large, blue and gold settee. Another of her mother’s choices. She kicked off her high heeled shoes, and wriggled her toes to restore the life to them. Why did she bother? Nobody there appreciated her long legs. Suri unpinned her long, black hair, allowing it to fall in a curtain down her back. She rubbed at her scalp where the pins had tugged.

Her mother came in with two steaming mugs of milky chai, and sat herself down beside her. She rubbed at Suri’s neck with her firm fingers, and Suri relaxed.

‘That feels so good, Mamma. Your fingers are very soothing.’

‘In India, all we girls learned to give a massage to relax stressed muscles.’
‘Well, I’m glad you did. Thank you.’
They sipped at their scalding tea, chattering about nothing in particular. The sound of a key turning in the lock had them both rushing for the kitchen. Suri quickly tied her hair into a pony tail, and began to take small pieces of the millet flour dough that her mother had made earlier in the day, forming them into balls, and rolling them deftly with a small wooden roller. Her mother had the gas jet on high under the two frying pans; she took the flat breads as Suri rolled them, slapping them down briskly on to the hot pans, turning them as they blistered, then cooking the undersides for a minute.

Time for a cuppa, now, I think I deserve it:-)