Among its many gifts to me, Civitella gave me the subject of my next novel. I arrived wrapped in the blank, despairing doubt that occurs between books, with no idea what I wanted to write next. No certainty that there would even be a next. For a week this place and the people in it offered ideas and feelings and sun and music and laughter and wonderful, wonderful food and the fragrant flower-and-spice-filled air of Umbria. On the eighth morning I awoke with my next novel in mind, title and all, alive and beckoning.
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