I’ve left the Cove for a couple of days, maybe a week. Day Job is slow and I can write anywhere so I’m in the Valley with family. My mother has written a romance novel and is in the process of editing and expanding it. When I called her to let her know that I was heading out and should be there in seven hours or so, she said, “Okay, I’m leaving work. I’ve got to go home and write the scene where her brother gets shot and then I’ve got a dinner to attend. See you after.”
I love that she gets it now. I’ve read the drafts and we talk about her characters as though they are real. When I mentioned that to her, she said, “They are real.” She finally gets it. For real.