CHAPTER TWENTY-ONEMargaret Thackrey
Dearest Jonah,
I know—up to now my notes have been too sketchy and hasty and entirely too short on news. Your phone call made that abundantly clear, so I have taken this morning off to use in catching up on my correspondence. You are not the only one getting short shrift—I owe Quint and Sally a long letter, as well as you and Mo.
This accursed book is driving me up the wall, as you might suspect. I am reliving a very troubled time in my life, and it disturbs me so much to bring it to mind that I have slowed to a crawl with my writing. I can see your expression, even over two thousand miles—Mum? Writing slowly? The sun is going to rise in the west tomorrow too!
But this is no joke. I am not quite through with the first draft, though I have been workin
