Meredith Grant

Meredith Grant
Meredith Grant is an emerging Regional Victorian writer. She has been shortlisted for the Trudy Graham-Julie Lewis Lit. Awards for Prose, runner-up for the FAW Qld. Soapbox Article competition and most recently been awarded runner-up in the Writers Victoria Regional Members Writing Competition. She has also contributed to on-line Journals and had articles and personal memoirs published on-line. She studied Professional Writing and Editing at Ballarat University and has a strong focus on writing non-fiction. Her goal is to become a freelance writer where her contributions will cover her experience and knowledge on topics that sit close to her heart, including Australia's homeless epidemic, teenage depression and Australian adoption matters. She is currently working on her full length memoir she hopes to have published, until then her short memoir works are being submitted to various opportunities and competitions which she hopes will help raise her writing profile.

Tuesday, 5 August 2014

Day 1 - Dear Carmel - I remember the boat...

Follow my entries - 'Writing the story of your life' - Entry One
Dear Carmel,

  I remember the boat, the one that saves lives.  It hangs from the side of the Rhapsody the welcoming cruise ship I spent ten awesome days soaking enough summer sun to fill me with a lifetime of vitamin D.   The boat is actually a life-raft, but to me it looks more like a boat.  Who would've ever imagined such a lifesaving vessel could act as boat, a boat that took us on a wider journey across the seas of the Caribbean to what otherwise would remain isolated. The Island is filled with atmosphere, presence, culture of men and women and their children, their adorable coils of tight knit hair, their skin the colour of chocolate you could easily eat, enjoying them, swallowing their bright smiles, taking it all away with you never to forget.
  The pristine waters are like no other, they are clear and I mean clear like a well chlorinated swimming pool.  The sands are crystal, glimmering in the days warmth as though littered with tiny speckles of diamonds.  The sand leads you to the waters edge that is filled with the wonderful joy of passengers who have embarked, like me, onto an island filled with the slim outline of palm trees dotted amongst the hilly backdrop, a backdrop that I imagine conceals a world of habitual huts for its people far behind in a distance you cannot see.  The sands invite you deep into the warmth of the water, carrying you out as far as you would like to go, sharing the freedom offered with an occasional tortoise who slowly swims past his audience, his inquisitive nature a sight to be mustered.
  On shore there is an exuberance of colourful materials of t-shirt's and sarong's  flapping happily in the soft breeze I am grateful for drying the beads of sweat that have drenched my body.
  In the distance the Rhapsody sits awaiting our return.  As one life-raft disappears behind the curves of the islands shores, another re-appears with the next load of expectant customers awaiting their anticipated arrival.  The boats sway across the soft ripples of the glassy water, mesmerising those who take the time to watch there delicate movement, and who would've ever thought? 

(Exercise 1 - 'I remember the boat).



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