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mermaid

Picture borrowed from http://www.designzzz.com/featuring-katigatorxx-digital-art-and-photo-manipulations/

When I look back now, home seems like a story for pups playing in tide pools.  And yet, there are kinds and kinds of stories.  There’s the kind that you read to me once from a book your mother gave you when you were small, that begins ‘once upon a time’ and ends ‘and they lived..’.  Well, you know.   It’s the same kind that my mother used to murmur to us before bed time – fresh rain in the morning and fat silver fish with pearls for eyes, and sea-witches with the power to grant your heart’s desire, and mates handsome as – well, as you were, to me.

And the other kind.  Sunlit in the shallows, but dark below, the kind to keep young mer awake at night dreaming of the ugly sharp-toothed things that live far down in Deep Sea, or of the long nets of humans, and their sails of scraped mer-skin, drying in the wind.  Stories that begin well, with young mer girls combing out their bright hair on the rocks, and end in death and the crunching of old bones into sand on the sea shore.

But if any of those things were ever real, any of them, they’re lost now and exist only in my mind.  Like home.

This is the beginning of my newest novel.  It only gets worse from there.  I just finished the penultimate draft (that’s the draft you have to cover with red pen before it becomes anywhere near ultimate).  And I’m looking for a few willing volunteers to immerse themselves temporarily in this water-based fantasy-novel cum under-sea kitchen soap opera -based loosely on Hans Christian Andersen’s Little Mermaid – and tell me how I can make it better..any offers?

love

Rose at englishrose659@hotmail.com

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