Surfing has been a hobby of mine for about five years, so all of the surfing experiences in the novel are real. I only surf on Duckpool Beach (which is it's name in real life), and so I can easily picture Scarlet, Carter or Isaac zooming through the waves as I write.
It wasn't his fault that he couldn't understand why I spent endless hours just aimlessly walking by the ocean. To my dad, the sea was a bottomless crater where countless sailors and fishermen went to die, but to me, the sea was a place of escape.
It was late. The mist entwined my ankles and I shivered, not from the cold but the prospect of entering the arctic ocean that lay right before my eyes. It had been months since I had been surfing.
At the time it seemed purely coincidental when, that evening, Carter magically appeared at the beach bonfire held once a fortnight with me and my classmates at Duckpool beach...
We talked about life, of death, of Cornwall, and of surfing. I'd admitted that although I had lived here since I was ten I had never learned, however wanted to. To Carter, that was unfathomable. Knowing how to surf was as critical as being able to breathe.
The sand felt cold between my toes as we made our way down to the water's edge. The sea was quiet, almost motionless; the small crests lapping up the sand by our feet soundlessly. The ragged cliff face that stood majestically on either side of the water was black as an oil slick and just as shiny.
Isaac grinned at me. Held out my gloves. I returned a watery smile and pulled them on, letting my hair fly backwards in the biting wind. We grabbed our boards, began jogging towards the frothing surf, the early morning sun glinting off the water like tiny pearls in a giant green-blue oyster.
*EDIT* If you can see the black rock in the middle of the sea, that's Deadman's Head. If you have read Frozen Sea, you will know why it is significant ;)
I thought back to that disastrous evening back in late July. The way the sea had felt like ice. The moon, casting eerie shadows over the water. The image of Carter resounding lucidly in my head like a highway billboard...
The first thing I noticed as Connor pulled up to the gravel lot later that evening, once the sun was enjoying it's last few moments of light and the sky had turned a beautiful marbled pink, was the twirling ribbons of smoke unfurling from the bonfire in the centre of the beach.
Laughing hysterically, our thin, cotton clothes billowing out behind us in the breeze, we ran towards the sea. Our feet kicked up sprays of cool, Cornish sea. Connor's arms hanging loosely around my neck, my hands gently tracing the small of his back, we kissed, our mouths working slowly, intimately. The sun now gone, the pearly light of the moon lay dappled at our toes, reflecting shiny rays on the sea, turning it a beautiful, milky white.
I hope you have enjoyed this last post about my inspiration for Frozen Sea! I have really enjoyed writing these, and look forward to writing more posts about Cornwall in the future, as it is a big part of my writing.
Want to read Frozen Sea? You can on Movellas: http://www.movellas.com/story/201302021250350886-frozen-sea
Please leave a comment with your thoughts :) Lots of exciting posts coming your way!
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