So I'm working on a nonfiction book proposal, at the request of an acquisitions editor who came to one of the readings for the anthology. We had our first meeting Monday morning, very informal, very "let's see if we're on the same page about this project", and there are no guarantees that this is going to turn into anything. She helps me put together the proposal--steers, essentially--and maybe her editorial board wants the book, and maybe they don't.
There's another book, by a professor, that I can see referencing because she touches on some of the same issues. So I wrote to her, asking if I could pick her brain now and again, and not only did she respond in the affirmative, but she asked if I'd be willing to look at a manuscript she's about to send to her publisher. I'm completely flattened. Yes, flattened, not flattered (although I am that too). The idea that Someone Published thinks I have something to contribute to their process always makes me swoony--it's happened recently with someone else, and I was so pleased to be able to help, even if I suggested that the author cut something they really didn't want to cut.
So I just wrote back to her that I would be thrilled to look at her manuscript, and talked a little about what I'm trying to do, and just the act of explaining made my head open up and all the little sardines are jumping around trying to get out. So I'm going to go sit on the bed and eat the cookies I purloined from the UG Volunteer Appreciation Party (have I mentioned lately that Thread is the bomb? Who needs a mate when she has a friend who remembers Exactly What Kind of cookies to buy?) and make lots and lots of notes.
Last night I pulled the Four of Worlds and Seven of Wands--Commencement and Courage--when I was thinking about this project. Powerful combination, telling me to just jump.
So I'm jumping.