That’s the thing, you see . . . when the book is going swimmingly, which it is, I want to spend all my time writing it and none of the time writing anything else (like my blog).

After all, I play here when everything is falling apart there. But nothing is falling apart right now. I had a great day with Flynn and Sara. I’m not sure Sara enjoyed it much — or that Flynn is going to enjoy it later — but I had a blast! I also got to write a conversation between Sara and her mom. And as Polly has always been one of my favorite heroines, I really enjoyed meeting up with her again.

Because the day went so well, I went out this evening with a friend to watch a Maori dance troupe which came to one of our local colleges to perform. They had the misfortune to have to do it in a gymnasium with terrible acoustics. But the dancers themselves were marvelous, the singing was really compelling. But the music they had to use for accompaniment was ruined by the sound system and the acoustics of the gym. Very much a shame because they were really worth watching.

I went to a similar performance at the museum in Auckland the first day we were in New Zealand. It was wonderful, but this one actually seemed even more ‘authentic’ or perhaps done with less ‘showmanship’ and so felt more ‘real.’

At the one in Auckland I was drafted to learn how to swing poi. Perhaps that colored my memories 0f it as I’m not the world’s most coordinated person. And with a 27 hour trip behind me and no sleep, it’s a wonderI didn’t hit myself in the eye! Still, it gave me a great appreciation for the dexterity of the dancers. Graceful Rn’t Us, I fear.

Anyway, I have nothing to whine about regarding the book. It’s zipping right along. Does this sort of thing happen to Nora Roberts all the time, I wonder? Perhaps that’s why she writes so many more books than I do. Or maybe she just fights through the tough stuff with more energy. That’s probably more likely.

In any case, most of the time I say, “Writing is easy and fun for me,” I’m being sarcastic. I wouldn’t be if I said it today. Some days it actually is.

The odd thing about this book is that it was supposed to be set in Ireland. And I don’t think we’re getting there until chapter eight.

Maybe sooner, but not much. In fact I see now that it could be a much longer book. If I were doing it as a Special Edition or a single title, we’d be just about at the halfway point when we get to Ireland. But inasmuch as it’s a Presents, it’s going to have to be very tightly focused on the relationship and less on the other stuff that would also be a part of a bigger book.

I’m not sure I think that’s the best use of the story, but it’s what I’ve committed to, so it’s what I’ve got. And having a focus is good, really. It keeps things from wandering all over. I must admit I’d like to be able to bring in more of the Irish stuff — and the people and the story of what goes on there. Flynn’s brother is an interesting guy. We may yet see more of him in a later book.

It’s interesting, too, how little the collage actually had anything to do with the final book. I suppose that it should have told me something when I never put New York City in it at all, that New York wasn’t important. And I did manage to get in a tiny piece of Montana.

At least I got the focus on the people right because really that’s what it’s all about. People. Relationships. It would be interesting to make a collage after the fact and see what I come up with then.

But in fact I think I like Twyla Tharp’s box idea better. It’s not so static. It’s a place where I can gather stuff and sift through it and find connections.

I’m not a spatially visual person. So I probably do better when I have a box full of stuff (my mother would certainly agree with that!) than everything neat on a page, even if it’s a big page.

It was fun to do the collage, but I’m thinking I’ll try a box for the next one. Whose story will it be, I wonder? One of the Savas and Antonides bunch? Peter, perhaps? Or George, the physicist who locked himself in the lab when Theo was taking over my blog?

Or maybe Flynn’s brother, Dev? Or Sara’s sister, Lizzie? Or someone else entirely.

Possibilities abound. I’m getting exciting just thinking about it. But first I’ve got to finish this one. A week or two should do it. I hope.

It’s there.

I can see it — the light at the end of the tunnel.

It may be faint and far off, but it’s perceptible. And I can actually see the track for the rest of the way. I spent today writing it all down. A rough draft, if you will, of the whole rest of the book. I sent it to my dear friend Anne Gracie to see if she could spot any gaping chasms I wasn’t seeing. She wrote back, Nope. (or words to that effect).

I feel like I can breathe again. I knew it yesterday when my scratching paid off, even where I wasn’t expecting it. I knew it when the penny dropped about Sara and a sense of home. I could glimpse it then in flashes, but today I could actually see it for long steady periods of time — while I wrote.

So tomorrow I’m taking three hours off. I’m taking my mother to lunch to celebrate her anniversary of coming to live here. She’s been here 6 years (she thinks eternity has nothing on this. Time moves slower where it snows, she says). But we are celebrating tomorrow.

And I have even more to celebrate than her anniversary. I can celebrate finally seeing that light!