I was a town kid until my grandfather died when I was seven. That's when we moved to the farm to live with my grandmother. Suddenly, school was ten miles away, not a couple of blocks down the street, and I got there after an hour's ride on a bus that often picked me up before dawn. Playmates were no longer readily available, but space was -- a quarter section. I can't remember when I couldn't read, but from then on, books and their authors were my best friends. When I wasn't securely tucked into a story, I was dragging plots and characters out into our fields, yards, pasture, barn, and outbuildings to act them out. That's part of why I write, to pay forward the gift the authors of my youth bestowed on me. They were reliable companions who got me through many a lonely hour with the four Es-escape, entertainment, empathy, and enlightenment. I hope I occasionally offer that same gift to others.