Photo by Tim Zurowsky
With hot coffee in hand and two sleeping West Highland White terriers on the couch this morning, I ponder the book I’ve written and rewritten it five times. I’ve studied how to write a proposal. I’ve written a proposal. I’ve studied how to write a query letter. I’ve sent the latest manuscript to readers for comment. Several people are doing edits. I’ve queried multiple literary agents. I’m building a platform. So what now? Now I need a cover page.
I’ve pondered a cover idea for months. This morning got an idea.
I pictured a photo I took in Sebastopol of a path leading into the woods on a soft, foggy day. Something about that photo intrigues me. It suggests a journey. My story is a journey.
Then I thought about Teensy, the fledging sparrow I rescued as a child. Teensy was the creature who introduced me to the tragic reality of death at the tender age of eight. And for that reason, Teensy was an important marker in my life. Fifty-Eight years later I still think of that bird, long decomposed in the Woods–probably an apartment complex now– on 162nd Street, Flushing 65 New York.
What about the picture of a sparrow superimposing, or in another way, being part of the path photograph? I think I’m on to something.
And then, I thought of the song His Eyes are on the Sparrow” by Civilla D. Martin / Charles H. Gabriel.
This song could possibly become my theme song.