Humid.
Madly unpredictable.
But then you come home in the late afternoon to a garden filled with these beauties about to open and release their scent, and the humidity suddenly makes sense, carrying the scent in through open doors and windows.
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| Moonflowers |
And for me, after a hot 30+ day, there's nothing better than heading down at night to the beautiful North Sydney Olympic Pool. With Christmas only days away the usual lane-choking-crowds are off at parties, or shopping, or already on the road bound for somewhere else.
Then, you have the pool almost to yourself.
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| A lane of one's own. |
And as you swim into the darkening night, electricity rips over the harbour as a storm decides whether to just tease, or stand and deliver.
I've set quite a bit of the next book, Beams Falling, around North Sydney Olympic Pool. And now, I find myself looking for Ned and some of the other characters down there as I swim.
I'll know I've succeeded in creating a world and creating the people who live in it if - after reading the book - other people feel the same.
It's been a busy few weeks. Page proofing with the sharp-eyed and indefatigable Rachel Scully in the Penguin mothership in Melbourne. But the week ended with a proofed book, an approved cover copy and a date with the printer next week.
Look. It's a book.
