In college I had a vivid dream of an island rising out of the water; horses followed, dark horses that ran like they'd just escaped an injustice. I journaled about the dream but it went no further.
Mossy's story began on paper in 2016. We'd moved to a very small house, and I had a few ideas about a boy and some trees. Our three sons also inspired me, and Mossy came to life one night as we tried to get the boys to bed. After that night, I wrote in the early mornings until an adventure seemed mostly complete.
Life being what it is, the story sat for months. I poked at it after awhile, and decided it was okay but too short. I added a couple chapters. It sat again.
Mossy, along with the horses and the trees, wouldn't leave my mind. And I'm glad for it.
I learned in the summer of 2020 that Wipf and Stock accepted my small book, A Mossy Story. It's now the winter of 2022. The leaves have long since gone, and Lord Salix is no longer clothed in his robe of leaves. And yet, the promise of the spring is in the air, and the hint of a story whispers.
I hope you'll like it--and more, I hope you'll be encouraged by this small story!
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