Tony Soprano, I miss you.

Yesterday marked 2 months since I sent out my memoir to the agents I mentioned in my last posting. Two months is a long time to wait. With one of them, the suspense was over a couple of weeks ago. Their response was more generous in it’s appraisal and details than I imagined but intuitively, I was on target. She was not to be my agent. And the other? My work is still under consideration and that’s great to report.

No one teaches how to wait in writing classes. You can master the query letter, finish the work and make the right connections but after you hit that send button, you’re on your own. Which brings me to the photo you see above.

You know that scene. Possibly the most talked about last episode in the history of serialized TV. By the time I got to it, 9 years after its original broadcast, I’d binge-watched the previous 85 episodes and was mesmerized. I was so taken with the writing and production of this finale that I watched it 3 more times and read critical essays. All I can say is that David Chase knew exactly what he was doing, had it planned for years and couldn’t have done it better. I remain humbled by the brilliance of his using a change in point of view to end this series and can’t imagine another alternative.

So, why was I strung out on Tony e famiglia? One reason is that I’m editing a book for which this provides invaluable research. The project is as hush-hush as the location of Junior Soprano’s forgotten money, or I’d say more.

It was also the most engrossing escapist fair I could think of. Living the virtual life of a charming psychopath seemed to be just what I needed to keep my mind from spinning out of control. Having spent years in the big-money world of interior design, I completely surrendered to Carmella’s impulse towards the lavish and rightfully guffawed with each mention of a Chanel bag or view of Tony reading the Robb Report. The ongoing game of whack-a-con left me reeling from the suspense and emotionally spent.

The last couple of months started with low-grade depression (2 years of intense writing and now what do I do?) but has given way to healthy acceptance. I’m moving forward on personal essays and short stories but still wondering about that Russian in the woods. Does anyone really believe he didn’t go back to take out Paulie and Christopher after stealing their car? 86 episodes and that was the only dangling thread. We should all produce such satisfying fare.