The third book is in rough draft! I've assembled it into a three-ring binder and sent it to a few readers (friends.) I need a hiatus, so I can, in a few weeks or months, approach it with refreshed eyes. I still need to refine the introduction (or it may become the Author's Notes) and the ending. Endings are the hardest. I'm receiving almost daily requests for the new book. I hope I can have it in print this year.

The saddest item I have to report is that my two oldest sisters, two years after the appearance of "Dancing" and a year after "Walking," have decided they don't like my approach, and that they have been given short shrift in my books (not enough acclaim or attention.) After a lifetime of dealing with their rage and denial, I should have expected it. The rancor was sufficient and causing me such angst that I had to block them from my e-mail. It's tragic. I've received an unexpected benefit from the six-year exercise, in the healing and recovery I've experienced. Now I'll never be able to share that with them, or give them pointers on reaching a similar degree of resolution for themselves. But I must not allow myself to be deterred. A good friend, Mary Clearman Blew, gave me a gem of wisdom: "The worst thing you could do is let them silence you." So I won't, but I have to confess that encountering such anger and even hatred creates a burden I have to lug along in my efforts to forge ahead. Such a waste of energy that could be better used writing the stories.

While I'm taking a respite from "Chasing Ghosts" I'm starting the essay that I've been planning for several years--a love letter to my kids and grand-kids, sharing my experiences and conclusions on many diverse topics, and apologizing to them for having to share and suffer from my clumsy, even toxic, journey through life.