My niece actually has synesthesia. She hears music in colors. How fun would that be?

I, of course, don’t have synesthesia. Just like I don’t have any form of ESP, precognitive dreams, or alas, even very much intuition. So I’ve got phenomena envy. I even had an opportunity for a near-death experience, but no go. No white light, no tunnel, no nothing. Sometimes it sucks being me.

How about you? Any synesthetes out there? Do you know anyone with the condition? Can I borrow their brain for a bit?

In writing news, I’m still plotting. Ah, the plotting. Where the ideas snake through my brain, building character lives, devising ways to reveal flaws and aha! moments. Seeing how putting those two people together is going to change everything for them. Not just love, but how the challenge of the other begets transformation and a new way of seeing themselves and the world. It all sounds so glorious in my head. Everything is possible at this point. When it’s all potential, it’s perfect. I just wish every book could turn out exactly like I imagine it at this stage. Alas, it rarely happens that way, but that’s the mechanism of the writer. Trying to convert the initial concept to words on a page. Without that ideal and the subsequent struggle, there would be no striving, no improvement, no experimentation. Perfection is always just out of reach, but the striving makes this job ever-challenging, ever new.