When the Cool Summer Breeze Sends a Chill Down My Spine . . .
This is total awesomeness. I finished my synopsis last night!!! Oh sweet Jesus I did it. Now it's time for a full manuscript edit and I also have to refine my query. Let's just say I will be doing a few all-nighters this week.
Edits, as painful as they are, really do not bother me half as much as writing a synopsis or query. I can put on some records and just turn my brain into technical mode. I like reading my book—it's fun. The worst thing that happens is when I get too critical and start to turn fatalistic. I am allowed no more book rewrites unless sanctioned by an agent!
When I heard this song in the car last summer, I about flipped for joy! William has been stuck as a ghostlike eighteen-year old since 1956 and Emma is the first human to be able to see or hear him (though neither of them realize this at first which creates a certain amount of fun). He fades at night, and in one scene Emma goes to look for him in the town square. She is caught in a breeze that whispers her name, "Emma . . . Emma . . ." A soft touch can be felt on her lips, but it disappears too quick. THE WIND.