Well, I guess I’ll wrap it up for today. Happy to report I slept a full 6 hours straight last night, which is way more than I have for weeks. Hope the trend continues as I felt completely different this morning. Praying I’ve turned a corner with this–insomnia is not for sissies!
Finished reading all of my written chapters, started a new one condensing all of the major trial evidence/witness testimony (yes that’s a lot for one chapter) and started digging in to my totes filled with records. I found Cathy Hughes’ handmade, color coded charts she used in prep. You have to remember, these trials occurred in 1990, so technology was way different. There were no big screens in the courtroom, just flip charts on an easel. I re-read her closing argument today too and once again astounded by her brilliance in the courtroom.
I ran across some testimony referencing the crime scene technician who took all of the photos at the crime scene. I remembered an email I got from her two years ago, detailing the impact this had on her life from the tender age of 24 when she was at that job. I was busy dealing with my flooded condo in AZ at the time I received it, so went back and revisited it. Let’s just say I ended my day today with tears.
Gonna go forage for some dinner now and hunker down to get completely distracted with the drama of The Bachelorette. Right now, even the commercials will be a welcomed relief. I feel like I have so much done, but at the same time, so much more to be done for this book to be fully coherent and include everything I need to.
Ran across some totally personal materials of Cindy’s today too–her journal, a breakup letter she wrote to her boyfriend, etc. It’s that bittersweet feeling of seeing her handwriting and remembering her “voice” and at the same time feeling the deep emptiness of her loss. No wonder I am ready to take my break today.
Thanks as always for following along. Also including a funny screenshot of a little exchange I had with my husband this morning. It’s hiding in the collage above. He hits the right notes of seriousness and levity with me, but is always there as my constant support.
Here is a small snippet from a chapter I worked on today:
She walked slowly like a model on a runway, down the aisle between the benches, and stopped short of the swinging half door that separated the gallery from the well and just stood there, waiting for a butler perhaps to open it for her. She slowly and dramatically unbuttoned her coat with her dark polished, long finger-nailed hands, slid it dramatically off her shoulders and held it out in her hand, waiting for someone to take it. It was like watching Alexis Carrington walk into a formal party with a glint in her eye and attitude, knowing she was up to something devious.