- Chapter one -> Twenty-one = complete
- Chapter twenty two = not yet begun
Word Count: 39,589 /25,000 *
Story = 158% complete
Art = 1%
Thoughts for today:
Spent far too much time researching trouth fishing techniques today and not enough time writing. Oh well, I learnt a bit.
Looks like my weka has become a bit of a celebrity.
Extract:(no wekas in this extract, they're watching quietly from under a bush).
The old man set the box on the porch and disappeared inside, reappearing with a knife, a board, a plate and a tub.
“Wish the missus would let me chop them up inside,” he grumbled. “But she can't stand the smell.”
He pulled the fish out by the tail and slapped it down on the board. “Now this, Thomas, is how you fillet a fish.”
The knife was shiny and sharp and he cut with the smooth skill of someone highly practiced. After slitting the length of the fish he thrust his hand inside the belly and pulled out a handful of gooey, red-brown fish guts. They were plonked onto the tin plate. He slit the fish along the spine, scooping out the blood with a teaspoon. These he poured onto the fishguts.
“That's your dinner, Thomas,” he said, pushing it towards the boy.
“Yerurgh, that's really gross, grandad!” Thomas pretended to be sick.
The old man rumbled with laughter. “Well,” he said. “You have been a good boy, I suppose you deserve something tastier than fishguts. Right now I need some water. Full up the bowl, lad.”
The boy filled the tub at a tap and struggled back carrying it. Water sloshed over the side.
“I”m gonna give the fish a good rinse now,” the old man said.