Well this writing of my time in New Orleans is helping me in the thinking department of the new book. Not so much in the actual writing of words on paper but that’s okay. I’m spending a lot of time just sitting in my room, spinning in my chair and thinking about Frankie. I feel like I am unraveling my story and Frankie’s story at the same time. And because I shared some of my story by writing it down, I’m hoping he’ll share some more of his.
I’d like to know his sister’s name and I think I know what happened to Max, the dog, but I’m not sure he’s willing to tell me about that part yet. It’s okay. I know he’s scared. I did dream about him last night in his hiding place. He’s very good at being quiet. Very good at being invisible. Even better at keeping secrets. But that’s okay. I can wait.