NaNoWrimo, Day 7

- Chapter one -> nine = complete
- Chapter ten = in progress

Word Count: 18,409/25,000 *
Story = 74% complete
Art = 0%

Once again, a harder day of writing. Chapter nine flowed fine, but chapter ten not so well. Perhaps it was because I'm totally exhausted after an exceedingly busy day at work - or possibly its merely because this involves research...
.. And when one starts researching stuff on Google it is very, very easy to get distracted.
So I have watched videos of "weka fishing" and other antics of these personable birds. I was actually trying to find footage of them swimming. Finally I had to settle for a "water rail" which is a European relative that doesn't have webbed feet either. For something that doesn't have good paddles, it seemed to swim quite successfully!
I also have to research the landscape of the Mingha river side of Goat Pass. Obviosuly, one could say "well, walk it then" but this is something I should have thought to do a month ago - when I actually had time. I'm so caught up in worrying whether Aroha will be walking through Beech forest and what way the powerlines run (since they could be used in plot point b: how many different ways can I hurt magpies).

I have also decided that instead of putting my bird images into a book with slightly editted versions of the information I have put up here, I will instead present "Aroha's Guide to Birds of New Zealand."

This means I should really draw a pair of scaups. Gotta love those duckies! I swear I've drawn more duck species than any other NZ native.

I also learned that the weka that travelled 300 km did it in 3 weeks. I guess Aroha has got to up her game!


Extract:

Hunger gnawed at her belly and a butterfly caught her attention. With a scurry and a scamper, Aroha took off in hot pursuit. With its flitting, flicking flight, the butterfly evaded many of her snaps and flaps, and lead her on a merry chase across the carpark. She finally caught it, gobbling it down in three quick gulps. The body was soft and squishy, but the wings dry and dusty and stuck to the roof of her beak. So she left them on the ground. Right, time to go onwards.

She ran towards the ute, but the back door was shut and Rover's mournful face peered down at her through the glass. The engine roared, and the car drew away.

“Come back!” Aroha cried, “you forgot me!”

But they didn't listen.

* It seems highly probably that the wordcount will exceed this number.