The Book.

Not THE Book, like the Holy one, I just mean my book. My memoir of Eliot's adoption.

You'll be happy to hear I've not touched it since I finished it. That's what I call progress. I'd like to blame the holidays and about four other things but I just needed a little space from it. I needed to clear my head. I needed to lay down my premature dream of getting published and refocus.

I've spent that time reading this book and this book.

Essentially I need to edit. To chop. Like Locks of Love chop.

It's like buying the absolute perfect house but it was previously owned by hoarders who disappeared and left all their stuff there. You can see the sound structure and spacious rooms. You saw peeks of beautiful crown molding and intricate tile work. But it's all covered by crap. THE STUFF. The stuff is all consuming and you needed some space after the initial walk through before you went back at it.

If you can't picture that, think of it as a huge pile of mental vomit and now I just need to pull out all the good chunks.

I'm excited about it again. I'll keep ya posted once I make more actual progress. Thanks for always asking about it. You guys have been such a huge support.