The first draft is complete, I'm working with an editor and a second draft close to completion. No decision yet whether to self-publish or focus my efforts on the traditional route, but that will become clear as I work each step. My ultimate goal is to get it into the hands of readers - that's you.

I'll keep you posted. In the meantime, here's an excerpt from the book's introduction:

My dear daughters,

When you were new and unbruised, and you trusted me because you knew nothing else, I made you a promise. I was unformed and unloved and felt the breadth and depth of that fact every time you accepted me in your innocence. I knew I didn't know, and yet you were here, counting on me. And so, I made promise to you in my heart.

Now you're grown women with families of your own. You've both forgiven me countless times and have taken responsibility for the quality and direction of your lives. I see so much beauty in each of you, your courage and wisdom, your strength and belief in goodness.

In the last months I've had a misunderstanding with each of you, so incidental, yet the moments of disconnection exposed an untouched error somewhere inside me, a shame and a wound I didn't know was there. So it's time for me to keep my promise.

Because whenever I discover something in myself that hurts you, threatens our loving understanding, I take responsibility. I learn what I need to learn, and do what I need to do to make it right. Because I'm the mom and that's what moms do.

I know I can't determine your own truth for you. I'll do all I can and you'll still have the freedom and challenge of your own experience, your own truth. I can live with that. What I can't live with is the idea that there may be something I could say, or some action I could take, that would heal the hidden disconnect, and that I haven't done my part; that in words unspoken or feelings unexpressed, the truth of our relatedness would remain unacknowledged.

And so, I'm writing you this letter. Because in my silence a misunderstanding might have the chance to thrive; a wrong, a blame or a guilt may live on, unexposed. I will show you what I see, embedded in moments of my life, moments of metaphor and meaning. These are my memories, the ones that rise up in my awareness in high relief when I open my mind to ideas about love, its absence and its emergence. Yes, this is a love story, because that was my promise to you, that you would know love. And today I'm keeping my promise.