The lyrical and insightful musings that the reader enjoys are scribed by a solitary individual, sitting alone in a small room recalling, but not living in, the real world. There are just seven weeks of work remaining until the first draft is done and then onto revisions and editing. I can hardly believe it, but there's actually a light at the end of the tunnel. A Bright Light. The disappointments and conflicts of the last several months are behind me now and it's full steam ahead.
Writing is fun again.
I still don't know if my book will make it to market, but right now all I care about is finishing. No matter what happens, no one can take that away from me. My sister and I took our cousin on a walking tour of the neighborhood, all the while chattering on excitedly about our former lives. I heard that her parents only speak about her now in hushed tones . But mostly we kept remarking on how much smaller everything seemed.