Today I began working with a book designer, and by next week I should have the edited version of my manuscript for my novel Anna’s Song. This is Book 1 of my Cries From the Earth Time Travel Saga and I am totally excited! So excited, in fact, that I had to share a bit of my book with you.
In this scene, Anna Marie remembers the day her mother discovers Anna has synesthesia. Anna’s identical twin is Adeline. Hope you enjoy and that it makes you smile!
“That’s pretty, Anna Marie,” Mama sits on the carpet with Adeline and me, sewing miniature outfits while we play with our Barbie dolls. We have the best dressed Barbies of all the girls at school. “I don’t recognize the melody.”
“Oh, that’s me,” Adeline doesn’t look up from where she is changing the dress on her doll. “That’s the song I am in her head.”
“Really?” Mama puts down the outfit she’s stitching and studies me. “You hear Adeline like a song?”
I shrug. “Yeah.”
I know it’s peculiar, but that is the way the world is to me.
“Do I have a song?”
I nod. Mama’s is harder to mimic. It’s higher and faster. I hum it to her. Her eyes shimmer.
“Does everyone have a song?”
“No.” This is my private world. I’m not sure how to talk about it. “Most people are silent. Other people sound alike, and I ignore them. They’re boring.”
The way Mama gazes at me makes me warm inside and Mama’s and Adeline’s songs weave together in ways that make me want to breathe in deep. If I were a bird, I would fly for the joy of it. Together their songs are twice as beautiful.
“What of yours? What does your song sound like?”
I tilt my head to one side, not sure how to answer. Sometimes I think I hear myself as the echo of a piano whose player is exploring and playing with notes. I shake my head.
“I have no song,” I say. “Mine isn’t silent, but the song isn’t there yet.”
Mama is hushed for a long time. Her brows draw close. She tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and her fingers linger. They are warm and gentle against the side of my face.
“What about Daddy? What does his sound like?”
I look at Mama out of the corner of my eye. “Daddy doesn’t make music.”
“Oh,” she chews her lip. I can tell she’s thinking hard, trying to understand. I love that about Mama. Most people don’t try to figure me out. “Do you hear music anywhere else?”
“Yes!” This is so exciting because I only recently discovered it. Maybe I can teach Mama and Adeline to hear the music, too. It must be so lonely to live in a quiet world. “Some places have special songs. Like at chapel at school. Sometimes, when they read the stories out loud, the chapel is full of sound—like many voices all singing different melodies, but they go together just right. I asked Adeline and the girl next to me the first time it happened, but they couldn’t hear it. Adi says their ears don’t work like mine, or maybe they don’t know how to listen.”
“How do you do that? How do you listen?”
I shrug. “I just close my eyes and listen. You should try. You have to be all still inside and that’s when it sounds the clearest.”
There are tears in Mama’s eyes and I’m afraid I said something wrong. I can kick myself. I’m not good at words. I say things wrong a lot and people get upset.
“I’m sorry, Mama. Is it bad?”
“Dios Santo, no, my love.” She reaches both hands and cradles my cheeks. When she smiles, her music plays louder and faster. She draws me close and my face gets lost in her hair. She smells clean, like fresh cut flowers.
“It is good. It is a very good thing. God has given you a precious gift.”