Why I wrote this

About twenty years ago, around the time my mother was publishing the third of her children's books about a hedgehog named Marion, she challenged me to write a short story. I did. We passed it back and forth for a few years, me writing, her suggesting, me revising, until I was happy with it and she had nothing left to mark.

Then she challenged me to turn it into a book. I started. Eighteen years ago I had fifteen chapters in various states, and I hated all of them. I shelved it.

It sat for a long time until the path changed. Eight or nine years ago I threw those chapters out and began again. I finished it this past spring, spent the summer editing, and published it at the end of September.

She did not live to see it. She was the reason that I love to read. She asked me to tell this story. I kept the promise.

Nathan Alberg helped give this book its face. Years ago he drew my mother's books. The same hand on this one lets my work stand with hers.