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It’s all in my mind…

I can’t stop thinking about them. I hear them talking with each other, Lucy, Dorothy, Jim Russ, Lucy’s girls, and this new character, Mireille DuBois. Suddenly it’s time to write a sequel, and the story is unfolding easily in my mind. It has to be good though. It has to stand alone. It has to be at least twice as long. Mireille, with her broken English and thick tangled hair. Jim, finally compelled to face his self-absorption. Dorothy, belligerent in her righteousness. Can’t you hear them?

There’s no title yet, and not one word of this new story is written down. Soon though, I’ll be grabbing every spare minute to write frantically, trying desperately to keep up with the dialog and unfolding scenes in my head. It’s like an addiction, this need to write. Peace Cottage released something in me, or perhaps it was turning 50. All I know is that I’m birthing books as opposed to babies, and I’ve never felt stronger.

For all of you who are afraid about getting older, let me say this: It aint a bad ride.

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