Do they have a monkey next door?
Oh, I guess it’s just a cowbird (or whatever those birds are called).
So it’s coming down to the wire.
I have only three days to finish this draft.
Then I teach Late Summer Honors for Cheri (she is so popular at BYU they want her to teach every class there, including the math even though she knows NOTHING about math, not even division).
You may have seen the news Friday.
Somehow, I think, I THINK, I have figured it out.
I wish I had a better memory.
I wish I could tell you all just how it happened.
But my memory of divine sorts of things–and this was divine as far as I was concerned–fade quickly.
All I know was I was walking and then I knew what needed to happen to two characters.
Get this–I didn’t know WHY I had my main character being my MC. You can’t write a novel with a limp MC. You can’t. And I figured that out. (Woot woot!)
And what was neato was I’d set the book up so that when I figured out the whys of this girl, she was able to slide into place.
Or at least I’m hoping so.
And I didn’t even know I’d done that.
(Gosh, I love it when that happens!)
We’ve spoken about letting your mind do the work on a novel.
I really believe the answers are there.
Sometimes they come quickly.
Once the ending to a book came while I was sitting on the toilet.
Sometimes you work for months, thinking it will never happen, and then, it does (I am not talking toilet work here, but writing work–though there can be a lot of straining on both adventures.).
And then, sometimes, the answers are just there.
But when you have to fish and search and pray for answers, that old brain of yours (and divine intervention, if you believe the way I do) can really help get things hooked up.
(Hmmm. I think I sound like an old lady trying to be young in the sentence above.)
So they next few days are purely writing and begging these two girls to help me:
You probably recognize Inspector Clouseau and George Clooney.
Keep looking.
More
more
What would you do with your money if you had some to spare?
Here’s what I would do for the next month and a half–get things unpacked, moved, painted and fixed. Plus I would have a personal chef and a personal shopper.
Here’s a room in my house: 
Now imagine it FILLED with boxes. And imagine it needing bookshelves (no, not one or two but enough for thousands of kids books). Imagine the sofa not having legs on it.
Now imagine the sprinkling system not working like it should.
And what do you have? Me worrying.
But! I have writing to do now.
So I’m gonna.
Final imaginings for you–me at the computer working on the DD.
Throwing Up Words 