Giving Thanks

I’m sitting on our red loveseat, candles glowing on the coffee table. My netbook is propped on my knees and the cat’s purring beneath them. A mug of peppermint tea sits within reach. I’m so glad to be home, with all of its familiar comforts.

I’m working on my edits. Painstakingly layering in more details about smaller characters. Giving the reader more time with Molly. Exploring more of her thoughts and observations and reactions. It’s challenging, making sure the new bits feel organic and not just thrown in helter-skelter, a paragraph here, a sentence here, a little scene here. But I’m lucky to have someone who believes in my book and asks great questions.

Our Thanksgiving was not what we expected. We had to call an ambulance for Steve’s dad last night. Steve spent hours at the hospital with his mom, while I waited anxiously at their house, phone in hand. His dad’s tests came back okay, but there’s some concern about the chest pains (the reason we called 911) and kidney failure. His dad’s already had one heart attack and a number of surgeries. Steve and his mom are much calmer about all of this than I, who am terrified by anything to do with hospitals and medical emergencies. I’m glad that his dad isn’t at any immediate risk, that he’s being well-monitored by doctors and nurses. And I’m grateful that my husband loves me despite the fact that I’m not very stoic and steadfast sometimes.

I’m thankful, too, for all the wonderful books that provide a welcome escape in trepidatious times. For friends I can call or email when I need to vent my worries. For the modern marvels of wireless and texting and G-chat.

Hope you all had a very happy Thanksgiving.

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