I'm realizing that the fun of this ghostwriting project for me is the chance to explore the interiority of the subject, to tell the external story, yes, but also to find the inner story of what happened, the feelings and quiet transformations that were provoked by outer events. It is not unlike writing fiction, because some of it you have to imagine, because your subject won't always tell you what things felt like in words that will translate to the page. So you take what she says and you enlarge it, and then you read it back to her and she says, "Yes, exactly. That's how it was."
I'm thinking it probably helps to be overly emotional in regular life, it helps to be a little bit depressive and prone to melancholy, and to have a hyperactive imagination, because you are then capable of composing a whole opera of feelings and emotions that might attend a situation, especially if given a running start by the person who actually lived it.
I can't exactly explain why it's the most exciting part, but diving deep into the interiority of my subject is what brings the whole endeavor to life for me. Hopefully it will do the same for anyone who might read this book one day. Until then, the privilege of interpretation is all mine.
As my son likes to say, "True story, bro."
The photo up top was taken by a wonderful photographer named Jorge Quinteros in a coffee shop in Brooklyn called Devoción. The middle sign caught my eye: "Give me an ounce of coffee good Apothecary to sweeten my imagination." I'm off to make my own coffee and hopefully to sweeten my imagination for the day ahead.