Monday, March 15, 2010

The end is near...

The end of Book Three is so near my pulse quickens at the thought of it!

This past weekend in NYC was utter weather goes. If it had been cold enough, the Northeasterner (type of a storm) we got for 2 days in a row, would've been snow and we'd have been burried. Instead it was rain and wind that I refer to as "umbrella killing" wind. In a one square block walk with the dog I came across over 10 dead umbrella's lying on the sidewalk/road in pieces. Why my dog feels these are items to pee on, I have no idea. Is it not bad enough they died and their owners tossed them on the road...but to then be peed on? My dog is just mean.

My thought over the weekend was if I had an umbrella made by the people who made Mary Poppins' umbrella I'd have been fine...but no, my umbrella flipped inside out and right side in over and over and over. My down jacked was soaked and my shoes? Ugh, we won't talk about it. point, and I have one, is that it was PERFECT weather for writing. When I got home from the gym and grocery store I cooked up some lunch, made some hot tea and away I went. I finished Chapter 23 on Saturday and then yesterday wrote Chapter 24. All that is left is Chapter 25 and the Epilogue and it's done. Mind you, Chapter 24 is shorter than the usual chapters by 2 pages...but that's okay. It fits its purpose and is tight.

So...we have only one more short chapter and the epi...and its a wrap. VERY excited to see how this goes today...for I hope to finish today.

To tantalize you with's a section from Chapter explains the title of the book...Enjoy! -Tamsin :)

I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes. I heard Alastair get out of the back seat and into the passenger side front. He sat there for another minute. I could feel his eyes on me and was about to ask him to just spit it out when he did.

“How are you holding up?”

“Look at me, how do I look like I’m holding up?” I said sarcastically.

“You look pretty good to me,” he said. “Better than I’d be.”

I let out a light laugh and then said, “Stained glass.”


I opened my eyes and stared out the window and said, “Stained glass. It’s beautiful to look at but in reality it’s pieces of broken glass that have been tinted and stuck together with other broken pieces of glass. They make a pretty picture but in reality, they’re broken pieces and they’re fragile.” I turned to look at him. “That’s how I feel. Like I’m just barely being held together by some sort of glue…all my broken pieces attached and at any moment if I don’t concentrate on holding it together that they’ll all come crashing down and that pretty picture will just be broken pieces of glass laying on the floor with no use at all.”

He said nothing but took my hand. I looked back out the window into the dark forest and we waited in silence.

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