Publisher's Synopsis
My son was about ten when he began drawing objects. He drew a picture of himself scribbling away, while his head was open like a hinged door. Tiny people were escaping out of it on strings, and lowering themselves to the floor below. Hundreds of them were descending the top of his head, where they seemed to be escaping from his brain. I fear in my life time I have lost many of these escaping ideas, since I failed to pen those stories or poems before they got away. When I get an idea, even if it is in the middle of the night, I have to capture it and set it to paper and ink. The stories in this book were some of my better ideas I came up with. The imagination is a wonderful gift that we all have. My son mentioned to me, when I asked about all of those little guys, that they were all of the many ideas that were pouring out of him. My problem was not 'what should I think of to write about', but 'which of the many ideas that come to me at various times should I choose to write about'? It seems to always begin like a germ of an idea that grows and grows as long as my pen and writing hand will hold out. Cheers, Don Check out these here > http: //tinyurl.com/b598efl and > http: //tinyurl.com/aveptsa
