Some stories require a physical object to place on my desk or to hold in my hand.
And sometimes it takes me a long time to find the right thing.
When I was working on Raymie Nightingale’s story, I went over to a friend’s house for dinner and I was early and no one was home and so I sat down on the back steps to wait.
It was springtime. The days were getting longer. It was still light outside.
And as I sat on the steps, I looked down and saw something flash in the dirt underneath the stairs.
It was something small and round and bright.
A marble.
Just exactly the thing I needed.
Just exactly the thing Raymie needed.
Here it is: small and round and bright.
It helped me tell the story.

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