Book contract

June 30, 2010

I just did something very cool. I…wait for it…filled out a book publishing contract.


All the progress has made me pause to consider where, when, how, and why it all began. Here’s a story to explain…

Coming Home

I was raised on prairie sunshine. Our community highly valued good hard work. Our men tolled for years over rocked filled land in an unforgiving climate — too hot in the summer, too cold in the winter. Our women minded the house, tended the kids and worked beside their men come haying time. There were few leisure activities. Art and Artists were foreign concepts to us.

I felt like a fish in the hayfield. It seemed I always had my head in the clouds. Dreams were what filled my life. Art and artists were the stuff of these dreams. Yet, I came as close to this world as my TV screen. One day my dad pointed out a local farmer and identified him with a new word writer  — I was intrigued.

Years passed and this hayseed was blown far from home. When I settled I found myself on a tiny island. Strangely it felt more like home than any place I’d ever been. The islanders identified me as one of their own.

“You are an artist,” they proclaimed.

“Who me? No, I just like to scribble,” I whispered.

“No, you are a writer,” they announced.

And I knew I was home.