The book -- my third novel, Sister Mysteries -- is finished.
The cover is designed (using this guitar painting.)
I've proofread all 319 pages.
So why can't I let go of it?
A few minutes ago, I read the last chapter out loud.
That's the chapter where the writer, Gina Rinaldi, finally decides that
she has to get past life regression therapy.
As the session ended, Gina was spent.
But I wanted to keep going.
I know it's crazy, but I have lived in this character Renata for more than two decades.
As my dear writing friend Peg Woods has said for more than 20 years,
"You don't want to stop writing this book."
Editing the book has immersed me once again in Renata's life.
Just like in 1995, I feel like I can't get enough flamenco music.
I listen to it on my iPhone or CD player day and night.
I feel like I'm breathing the music. Or it's breathing me.
I have even decided that I might try taking lessons again (I studied guitar years ago with
Maria Zemantauski, a Troy, New York-based virtuoso. She is an endlessly patient teacher.)
The story is deeply knit inside me.
Maybe the guitar will help release it from me.
Stay tuned. Sister Mysteries will be out in June.