I write because I like to talk.
I also like to tell stories.
Some of those stories are true.
And some of them are—well—maybe not quite so true.
But put that same story between two covers, and suddenly they call you an author.
So here we are.
I write about family, love, ordinary things, impossible visitors, cats who understand far more than they should, and people who sometimes surprise themselves.
Some stories begin in memory.
Some begin with something I noticed.
Others simply wander into the room, sit down, and refuse to leave until I write them.
But whether a story is true, nearly true, or something I invented altogether, I hope there is something honest waiting inside it.
And if you happen to discover something true inside a story I made up—
well—
perhaps I wasn’t lying after all.
Your friend,
Norm!