It’s a pleasant kind of Sunday afternoon, except for the parts that aren’t. In this case the parts that aren’t are largely covered by a party happening elsehwere, where my friend Chris is welcoming his son into the world alongside a bunch of other friends we have in common, while I’m here trying to figure out how to end the story that absoloutely needs to be ended and sent off later tonight. I’m at the point where I work on a scene then pace for a bit, then work on another scene and pace for a bit, then go back and change everything in the first scene to match the changes I’ve just made.

Basically, my favourite kind of day, were it not for the awkward glances I keep shooting the clock and the under-my-breath muttering about my inability to get these issues sorted earlier.

The only upside is that at least I’ve already met the younger Slee, who is teeny and squiggly and probably quite cute if you find baby’s cute, and seems destined to be an interesting chap when he grows up because his parents are two of the nicest and most interesting people I’ve met. And even if he chooses to rebel by playing rugby and forging a career as an accountant or somesuch in the future, he’ll at least provide the intriguing mental of image of his parents cheering along at the sidelines of his finals.


Outside there are clouds creeping accross the horizon. It’s looking like we’re going to get rain. More importantly, it’s smelling like rain, which is really the fun part.

So, yes, Autumn. March through August tends to be my favourite stretch of the year, largely because it’s when the weather and the temperature and the overall feel of the world makes the most sense to me. I hear people complain about the days ending earlier and the cold and such, and all I want to do is go walking in the evenings with a comfortable jacket on. Summer is evil, in Brisbane, and I believe strongly in staying inside and reading books in bed when the weather turns cold.

Plus the food is better. Summer food always feels so weightless and flavourless.


Two scenes left in the story. One fight scene, one denouement. Everything seems to be slotting into place, albeit about six days after said slotting into place would have been useful. I’m going to go for a quick walk before the storm hits and hope I can get through both without too much diffuculty.

  2 comments for “

  1. 07/03/2011 at 4:53 AM

    I love autumn.

    I close my eyes and travel to Tasmania, where deciduous beech foliage in Cradle Mountain National Park is turning to sulfur and flame and falling into crevices between rocks where no human will ever see them.

    Also, "autumn" is a nice word, much sweeter and more sonorous than "fall".

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