I know how this is going to sound. I just want you to know that I swear it happened.
I was in the middle of some serious burnout. So, that morning when I finally finished the manuscript and was ready to send it off to the proofreader, I was sitting at my desk. I glanced at a chair across from the desk, then to Joni Bishop's portrait of David hanging across from the desk, to a dulcimer made in Texas leaning against the wall. Suddenly, as clear as a bell a voice in my head said, "It's finished!" and, at that same moment, I heard the clear sound of a string pluck on that dulcimer. I didn't imagine it. I heard it.