A first

Today I KNOW without a shadow of a doubt that I will writing this book in a manner that is the best I possibly can. How is that news?

Because it feels like the first time I'm gonna do something the BEST I know how. An artist's standard. Those of you who've read my first book, know that it wasn't the best I could have done. I'm not putting it down for the sake of asking for additional feedback, positive, negative or otherwise about it, I'm just stating the facts as I see them. My perspective. What I know to be true.

Let's not even go to my education. At no point, no point whatsoever, did I ever delude myself or anyone else into believing that I was in it to do my best. I was in it to get my degrees. What would be required? And that's what I did. And that's all I did.

For the most part, that's how I've done just about everything. Relationships too. What do I need to do to get my needs met? And that's what I'd do. That's about all I'd do.

Enter Alice and this book. A little story. On Friday I'm sitting in the library reading through her papers. As had happened on several occasions over the last few days, it proffered an insight into my own life, my past, my viewpoint. I'm keeping a journal of the process of writing her book. As I write the insight working with her papers provided, I see even more clearly the parallels between her life and mine. Though she's three generations away in time, we're like twin sisters in ways that astound. For reincarnation believers, I don't sense she and I are the same spirit...I could be wrong, but it doesn't feel like I was her.

The parallels begin to look like they'd make a great angle for a book. Yeah. What about a book about a writer discovering a writer, discovering and being lead to a new life of her own as she uncovers this other life. Oh, it's been done. Plenty of times. I thought it would work for me and Alice, and well, too. And then I heard her ruffle up her little feathers.

It's like she was standing behind me as I was going through her papers and whispered loudly in my left ear the equivalent of "I don't think so. This book is about me. Don't mess it up. Stop messing around."

And I grumbled something about being able to pull it off if I really wanted to, but that I understood that she was the driving force behind this particular book and that she hadn't steered me wrong yet in any way, so I'd be a good little clerk...uuhhhh, writer.

She's actually quite a character, this Alice. Inspiring.

She's inspiring me to do a great job with it. That makes sense, too, considering her own writing career. Could this be another reason she chose me? Could she tell from the other side that I was so much like herself. I read through the letters she received from publishers. They all saw potentional in her, but she wasn't able to pull it out. There was something missing.

Now that I'm more familiar with all that was going on in her life, I know the many things she was dealing with that kept her from concentrating on her best possible writing. I won't list all the parallels I can relate to here...not ready, yet. I can see why I'm inspired by her to make this a true work of art to the best of my own ability.

No one has ever seen me do anything to the best of my ability. Not me, not anyone.

This is gonna be a first. I can't wait to see how it all plays out.