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I feel like a free woman. So much so that I actually left my cell phone at home this morning by accident…something I rarely do. Then on my lunch hour, when I discovered at the post office that I didn’t have the information I needed to mail my package, I treated myself to lunch at a cafe nearby…sitting in a window, looking out at the gray sky, sipping a spicy chai, with no distractions but the people around me and my own thoughts.

Before my life was put on hold by the interview, I was instructed to “steep myself in mystery.” I was also told by three wise women that when I next encountered them in a well-lit living room in San Francisco, I was to report everything I had been doing to finish my novel and get it published. That time is fast-approaching, and in my newfound freedom I find myself genuinely pleased to return to my little novel. Our time apart has reminded me just how much I do cherish it, and how much comfort and rightness I find in my mystery writing…a path of mystery, in general. And what true, good path is not full of mystery?

Tonight, I sink back into mental, emotional, and physical freedom…and mystery. By my bedside I have placed a thrilling new book to read. For background noise I have episodes of Midsomer Murder on high rotation. And now I’m headed to the blue room to find all my notes related to my novel’s final revision and finding an agent.

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