Last evening (Sunday), I finished one of the tomes I’ve been reading in preparation for my next nonfiction book. This is the 300-page ditty written, in part, as a screenplay by one of the characters I’ll be writing about–the same one that didn’t get to the meat of the story until well into the tale. Yes, it is the same one written my a man with a fixation on women’s cleavage. As I read, highlighting in yellow those parts that might be useful to me later on, the structure of my own book has slowly begun to take shape. It’s not complete. Yet. But it is beginning to take shape, with front matter material clearly forming in my mind. I know, it’s only front matter. There’s still the bulk of the story to go and the back matter. But it’s beginning to take shape in my mind’s eye and I simply have to trust the writing gods that the rest will fall into place when needed.