“Books are a uniquely portable magic.” Stephen King, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft

For an author, the magic book is the one that inspires a lifetime of toil over the page, endless hours scratching in a journal, and each commute constructing complicated story lines.

“Chelsey and the Green-Haired Kid” by Carol Gorman was my magic book.

It all started in Mrs. McDonald’s sixth grade English class at McKinley Middle School in Cedar Rapids, Iowa too many years ago. I loved Mrs. McDonald and she valued books and writers above all. So those became my values.

We read Gorman’s book then the author came to visit our class. I was smitten. Gorman talked about the book and her life and her husband, Ed Gorman. Shortly after the author’s visit to our class, I started devouring horror novels by the box-full. Mom would pick up books by Dean Koontz, Robin Cook, Stephen King, and more at garage sales or in the grocery check-out lines.

Most of my reading life was suddenly inhabited by aliens, supernatural forces, demented dogs, evil doctors and maniacal hitmen. After a few years, I began doodling and outlining my own stories. It became an addiction, an obsession.