Perhaps announcing that I was done with Ashes and Bones was premature. Perhaps the call of revising another project, The Shape Shifter, was too big a draw. Perhaps. Perhaps. Perhaps.
For Ashes and Bones has called me back to the story board and I am chopping sentences, revising scenes, speeding toward my own deadline of -- What? June? June what? And once the allusive date is met? THEN will the fledgling manuscript finally be allowed to leave its hard-wired computer nest and spread its wings to paper? Will I, the over-protective wordsmith, at last stop dissecting paragraphs and peering at each and every word under the thesaurus-microscope and hand the pages, wrapped in a protective cocoon of craft paper, to Cate and Deanna and whisper, "My baby is yours now. Be kind."?
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