I was around 14 or 15 years old. I had a good friend who drew well, and it seemed the pencil, pen, or paint brush did as he pleased. It was effortless for him. One day he drew a picture that I just couldn’t take my eyes off of. He gave me the picture of the creature, and I put a human face on it.

My hero for my first completed book was born.

I didn’t know it at the time. I was facinated by this person. I imagined a whole race of these creatures. I wondered who he was, the culture he lived in, the environment he’d made his life in, his profession, his character traits, etc. I couldn’t, and wouldn’t, take my mind off of him. I was obsessed.

I wanted to somehow make a story from this character. I wanted to express my inherent love and affection this creature that inspired me. But I was in junior high school. What did I know about anything?

Little did I know this person would follow me over the next 20 years to inspire the first book that I’ve completed. Little did I know I found something that would drive me to no end to get this out into the world.

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