The time has come to work on the second draft for the editor, taking into account all of the suggested changes, and there are quite a few. So much for thinking I could put in an almost flawless manuscript.
…
It’s a little more settled this morning, sitting down in front of the laptop and ready to go. The plan is in three different places, which is not what was meant to happen, but at various stages of the development process in the previous few weeks, I had to use different apps on my phone to make notes as ideas came to me.
If only Scrivener came on a Samsung phone!
But I will take the time to sit down and join the disparate pieces together, but as we all know that takes time, and time is of the essence.
So, today, it’s about the intermediate characters. The one I like the most is the police chief, an honest man working under a corrupt government, and military, knowing their foibles, and yet maintaining the ideal that the letter of the law will not be bent by his masters.
It makes for an interesting dynamic.
There are others, but these will be teased out as the story progresses, especially the girl in white who appears almost like an apparition.
Then, of course, there is the international media contingent in the city for the conference, of which some are not necessarily who they say they are.
This is the famous clock tower of the Flinders Street Station (the main train station for suburban trains) in Melbourne.
We were staying in a hotel (The Doubletree) directly opposite to the station and our room overlooked the station and the clock tower. I took photos of it during the day:
and this one, at night. It came out better than I thought it would.
The time has come to work on the second draft for the editor, taking into account all of the suggested changes, and there are quite a few. So much for thinking I could put in an almost flawless manuscript.
…
The story, in the planning stages, has a secondary theme running, that of the players involved in the events leading up to the assault on our main character, one that his handler was not aware of.
Why was he marked for execution, along with his previous partner?
That’s another story, one that will be teased out in this secondary theme and will run full circle and have some bearing on what happens at the end of the story.
Or not.
I’m not sure I will include any of this, and it might just become part of a novella that will stand on its own. For the most part, a lot of this story is about, and driven by, people he’s never met, but know of him, and his work.
It would be too easy to say he saw something he shouldn’t, because that’s not the case. It has to do with people he has worked with and been responsible for in the past, and whether or not there had been a conversation, without understanding the relevance of what might have been discussed at the time.
That part is nebulous at best, and you can see why it might not make the final cut.
It simply depends on how the main story goes, and the word count at the end. The rough plan calls for about 80 chapters and about 70,000 words, but I’m not one for sticking to plans.
Today’s work centres around the partner his handler has chosen for him, one that he’s not going to like when he finds out, the target he’s been tasked to watch over, and the location of the conference.
Of course, getting back to work after what happened to him is not as easy as saying he’s fine, but getting him to admit it’s anything but fine will be like getting proverbial blood from a stone.
The time has come to work on the second draft for the editor, taking into account all of the suggested changes, and there are quite a few. So much for thinking I could put in an almost flawless manuscript.
…
It’s a little more settled this morning, sitting down in front of the laptop and ready to go. The plan is in three different places, which is not what was meant to happen, but at various stages of the development process in the previous few weeks, I had to use different apps on my phone to make notes as ideas came to me.
If only Scrivener came on a Samsung phone!
But I will take the time to sit down and join the disparate pieces together, but as we all know that takes time, and time is of the essence.
So, today, it’s about the intermediate characters. The one I like the most is the police chief, an honest man working under a corrupt government, and military, knowing their foibles, and yet maintaining the ideal that the letter of the law will not be bent by his masters.
It makes for an interesting dynamic.
There are others, but these will be teased out as the story progresses, especially the girl in white who appears almost like an apparition.
Then, of course, there is the international media contingent in the city for the conference, of which some are not necessarily who they say they are.
We have stayed in two different types of accommodation in Coffs Harbour, New South Wales, Australia, as a timeshare owner who can trade their week for a week anywhere in the world.
Both are resorts, but different sorts of resorts. The first was a typical RCI resort, where everything is laid back and relaxing, with all the amenities one can expect from a resort.
The other, this one, the Wyndham in Coffs Harbour, is very different, and you notice it when you walk in the front door. You are virtually assaulted by hard-nosed timeshare sales staff who really don’t take no for an answer, and then when you finally escape, ring you every day to make an appointment.
I left the phone off the hook.
Aside from that, the place is excellent, the accommodation very good, and the situation one of the best with what could be called a private beach. There are also a number of bushwalks that cater to old people like me.
As you can see, lakes and greenery, and even a putting green.
And in places, they try very hard to hide the ugly multi-story buildings in amongst the trees
It is only a short walk to the ‘private beach’ and it is sufficiently long enough for a morning walk before breakfast. You could even try to catch some fish for breakfast, though I’m not sure if anyone actually caught anything
Or you can just stare out to sea
And, back in the room, this is the view we had from our verandah
The time has come to work on the second draft for the editor, taking into account all of the suggested changes, and there are quite a few. So much for thinking I could put in an almost flawless manuscript.
…
The story, in the planning stages, has a secondary theme running, that of the players involved in the events leading up to the assault on our main character, one that his handler was not aware of.
Why was he marked for execution, along with his previous partner?
That’s another story, one that will be teased out in this secondary theme and will run full circle and have some bearing on what happens at the end of the story.
Or not.
I’m not sure I will include any of this, and it might just become part of a novella that will stand on its own. For the most part, a lot of this story is about, and driven by, people he’s never met, but know of him, and his work.
It would be too easy to say he saw something he shouldn’t, because that’s not the case. It has to do with people he has worked with and been responsible for in the past, and whether or not there had been a conversation, without understanding the relevance of what might have been discussed at the time.
That part is nebulous at best, and you can see why it might not make the final cut.
It simply depends on how the main story goes, and the word count at the end. The rough plan calls for about 80 chapters and about 70,000 words, but I’m not one for sticking to plans.
Today’s work centres around the partner his handler has chosen for him, one that he’s not going to like when he finds out, the target he’s been tasked to watch over, and the location of the conference.
Of course, getting back to work after what happened to him is not as easy as saying he’s fine, but getting him to admit it’s anything but fine will be like getting proverbial blood from a stone.
We have stayed in two different types of accommodation in Coffs Harbour, New South Wales, Australia, as a timeshare owner who can trade their week for a week anywhere in the world.
Both are resorts, but different sorts of resorts. The first was a typical RCI resort, where everything is laid back and relaxing, with all the amenities one can expect from a resort.
The other, this one, the Wyndham in Coffs Harbour, is very different, and you notice it when you walk in the front door. You are virtually assaulted by hard-nosed timeshare sales staff who really don’t take no for an answer, and then when you finally escape, ring you every day to make an appointment.
I left the phone off the hook.
Aside from that, the place is excellent, the accommodation very good, and the situation one of the best with what could be called a private beach. There are also a number of bushwalks that cater to old people like me.
As you can see, lakes and greenery, and even a putting green.
And in places, they try very hard to hide the ugly multi-story buildings in amongst the trees
It is only a short walk to the ‘private beach’ and it is sufficiently long enough for a morning walk before breakfast. You could even try to catch some fish for breakfast, though I’m not sure if anyone actually caught anything
Or you can just stare out to sea
And, back in the room, this is the view we had from our verandah
Of course, it could easily be Collingwood depending on who you barrack for in the local football competition, as it is Fitzroy, but the map and my GPS tells me the street is, for all intents and purposes, in Fitzroy.
Not that there is a football team for Fitzroy any more, that moved north to Queensland a long, long time ago.
But…
Going for a wander up and down the street shows two or three very different sides to inner suburban living, and the effect that comes from a diverse range of cultures, the city has acquired over the past few decades.
Once viewed as almost the slums of Melbourne, these inner suburban areas have moved upscale to become havens for the more wealthy middle classes and a home for many diverse outlets, not the least of which are eateries.
And. In just this small section of Smith Street, there are a lot of eating establishments, from the Old Kingdom Peking duck restaurant to a small place selling Falafel, and then everything in between. It says a lot about how Australian eating habits have changed in a single generation, where back in those infamous old days you would be lucky to have a fish and chips/ hamburger shop and one or two Chinese restaurants.
Now, intermingled with gourmet bakeries and cozy coffee shops, there are a plethora of other eating establishments that cater to any cuisine you can imagine. In fact, it’s possible to dine out on a different cuisine every night for a fortnight and only traverse about half a kilometre up and down the street. It could be ideal if you lived in one of the small fronted houses just off the main carriageway in a leafy narrow side street or laneway.
And, as you would expect in an inner-city suburb, the streets are narrow and made more hazardous for traffic because of the trams, a familiar sight in many of the streets in this area, and a much-used form of transport for workers making the short trip into the city. It’s almost possible to take the extra half hour, and walk.
The street is lined with old buildings, some dating back to about 1868, there’s around the turn of the century, but most are not inhabited except for the street level where there is an eclectic mixture of furniture, haberdashery, and clothing stores catering to a particular group of people, what some call yuppies or upwardly mobile men and women who are between 25-35, with high paying jobs, and preferably no children.
Then there a subgroup walking there streets, homosexual men, some wheeling adopted children in pushers, others walking hand in hand out for a Saturday afternoon stroll where they can feel safe among many others. It’s very different from other places I’ve been, but one can imagine there are places like this in every city all over the world.
But as a backdrop to the appearance of wealth, the shopfronts that cater to those upwardly mobile upper middle classes, there’s that exact opposite in full view, the homeless, and beggars, sitting on the ground outside the more run down shops soliciting alms, asking for a spare dollar, and even one asking for a cigarette.
Everyone walks past them, imagining no doubt there are not there, or that if they ignore them, they will go away. I think not. And, I suspect, more will come out of their daytime hiding places and take up residence in Smith Street itself.
The only surprise is that the local council has not asked the police to move them on. It’s an interesting juxtaposition of inhabitants in an area that no doubt can only attract the upper middle classes, as anything and everything is relatively expensive, particularly real estate, and permit driven parking spaces.
Would I live here? No.
Would I come here to wine and dine?
Maybe, if I could get parking, which there appear to be very few spots or any other form of parking such as under the local supermarket which can be very expensive. And if you are lucky enough to find a spot, who has the time or the memory if continually feeding a parking meter every two hours, particularly if you’re having a good time.
Equally, it’s a place I would not feel comfortable, even if it was once a safe haven, which up to a few years ago, I’d probably think it not. In fact, at times I was not sure what to make of some of the people on the street, but I guess if I lived here, it would no doubt be the norm.
Would I recommend people to come here?
Of course. One of the more interesting places in Melbourne to experience grassroots cuisine that is incredibly diverse in it range and price, and even from a place with tables and chairs that may have seen better days, but you haven’t come to see the furniture.
And to my mind, the dining is definitely better, here than perhaps Carlton, which in itself is Mecca to a plethora of university types, both teachers and students alike, and the coffee culture that pervade that area of Melbourne.
I have no doubt you will come and leave with a very good opinion of the place.
As for me, I came here for an engagement party held at the Hotelito de Jesus, a Mexican restaurant, serving a variety of Mexican dishes. As I’m no expert of that particular cuisine, everything was going to be new.
It was. It’s spicy but not too spicy, the pork belly excellent, the canapés delicious, and both the mushroom-based and shredded beef based mini tacos were equally scrumptious.
All of this was washed down with two particular Mexican beers, two of several available in bottles, cans, or by the glass.
Oh, and you can get sangria by the jug too if you like. I would have, but my passion for trying different beers won out.
Thrills, Spills, and just a dash of Romance 