It's not unusual for me to have seventeen projects at once. It's probably not all that unusual for anyone to have seventeen projects going all at once, but mine are most typically not tend to the garden, or clean out the closets, and fall more into the category of frighteningly demanding, at least from a creative perspective. Books for your daughter don't just make themselves do they?

On top of The Mustachioed Boy there is now this little distraction...literally born on the couch, on my lap, with elevated and swollen knee throbbing just inches away. The book's cover (shown above in rough form) and story all fell together in a matter of a few hours, while Zo played with her dinosaurs beside me. It's been the easiest manifestation of my mind's meandering that I've ever stumbled into. It just kind of wrote itself, and the artwork, at least it's earliest concoctions, just kind of came to me. Maybe it was the ibuprofen, or maybe just critical mass, but either way, this the closest I've ever come to BLURBing out my nonsensical ideas into the form of something that might rest on your bookcase (if we're friends). I still kind of can't believe it.

I may be seeking test audiences...adult opinions...and graphic design help, but here and now I'm impressively far along, and I only had to hurt myself to do it. At this point the crutches might be worth it.

So what's the story morning glory?

It was initially inspired by Zoey's unshakable loathing of boys and then fell together pretty organically after that...a look in my head...a sketch...a title and some mixed fonts...one red balloon to balance out the cover illustration that eventually became a central part of the story...etc...etc... It's been fun. As frustrating as being half a cripple can be, it may very well have given birth to the first idea to actually become more than just that.

The universe throws some serious curve balls sometimes.