the storm clouds rolled in yesterday
I haven’t left the studio for three days I don’t think. I thought today was Saturday when I got up. I’m in the thick of things now. I wrote for about 10 straight hours yesterday–writing or researching materials. Figuring out how to condense thousands of pages of documentation in to a cohesive story consumes a lot of my thinking. It’s coming together but it’s definitely an exercise in choreography.
It’s like putting together a puzzle. I’m still writing the pieces then see how they are fitting together and modifying some as I go along to make a more readable flow. It’s exhilarating and exhausting. It’s exactly why I came to do this.
And , always, the hardest part is reading Cindy’s journal. How she was feeling, the vulnerability she was struggling with that set her up for this trap. Her sweet tender heart expressing itself.
I wrote about the day she was killed this weekend. And how/when she was discovered. And the day she was ensnared in the trap to marry her killer, and the events around that impulsive decision, guided by the hand of a sociopath.
The heaviest part of the book for sure. It’s not easy. I’m exhausted. Yet I’m diving back in today. This is what I signed up for, not just to have a book but to be taken on the journey I need to go on writing it. No one can do that for you. It’s a hero’s journey for sure, and requires focus and solitude. I’m so glad I gave myself those gifts.
Here is a snippet from yesterday:
I sat on the edge of my bed, with my silent yellow trimline phone glowing at me from the nightstand. I was begging it to ring. I called another friend and woke her up, desperate to hear another voice on the line, desperate to not be alone. I had call-waiting, so felt comfortable knowing if Cindy called, I could click over.
My friend asked me to repeat exactly what Michael had said to me, and I told her everything.
“Do you believe him?” she asked. I could hear in her question, that she did not.
I felt like a knife had pierced my stomach, and I fell back on to my bed. “Oh my God, the life insurance,” I said, out loud, then proceeded to dismiss that thought as quickly as I could from my mind. I went back to the safer Mark story.
While I was staying up, panicking and pacing, Annette was over at Cindy’s apartment, investigating.
I’ll head out today to get food and a zip drive. Other than that, I’m digging deeper until there’s no more soil to dig in..at least for now.