I keep thinking about Kevin. I met him last weekend in Long Island. He was in his football uniform because he had a game later that afternoon.
He wanted me to sign his copy of The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane.
I said, “Did this book make you cry?”
I was kidding him. My experience with Edward Tulane is that it makes adults cry, not kids.
But Kevin looked me in the eye and said, “Yes. Several times.”
Which, of course, made me tear up.
Writing is hard for me. I falter. I doubt. I lose my way.
It helps me to write toward something.
These days, I am writing toward Kevin.

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