Stephanie Bearce is always stepping in to save my life. She can't help it; it's just one of the super-human things she does as part of her quotidian.Most recently, she came into my home and cleared out the piles of STUFF that I was too horrified to even acknowledge were taking up space. (Stephanie sang and whistled and kept my daughter entertained; I kept ducking downstairs to inject black coffee into my system.)
Then--AFTER saving my life that way, she saved it again by saying, "Before I leave, let's look at that novel manuscript you brought to the retreat." I fumbled about trying to find which computer my outline and plot summary might be stored on. She sat back and got comfortable, paying not a bit attention to my dithering. She read the summary on the computer screen, made a number of insanely cogent comments, and then went off to put the finishing touches on world peace.
And now (third time's the charm, after all) the manuscript we talked about that day is saving my life again. As I may have mentioned earlier, I need a complete novel ms. for LA in Aug. Guess which one I'm working on? Right. The one I dithered about that day with Stephanie. It now has about 4350 messy, incoherent, life-saving words.
Thanks, lady.
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