Once upon a time in the city of Cincinnati,Ohio, a happy
girl was born.  When she was six years old the family
moved to Los Angeles, California.  The girl was
adventurous, sometimes shy, and always inquisitive.  She
liked reading, walking in the rain, gazing at the stars, and
studying found objects with the microscope, wanting to
know what things really looked like.  Some said she was
hard to figure out.  Others made fun of her and called her
weird.  She often felt sad, different, and misunderstood.  
After high school, she dabbled in painting, photography,
and graphic art but none of those really seemed to fit.  
Then one day an English Professor suggested that the girl
had a way with words and might want to consider writing.  
Writing?  It had never crossed the young lady's mind.  
The girl shook her head no and walked away but the wise
teacher smiled, knowing a seed had been planted.  The girl
went on to graduate from college and became a Physical
Therapist.  She married, two lovely sons were born, and
many years passed.  Then one day as she sat outside in
her car,  a beat up red SAAB, waiting for her younger son
to finish gymnastics practice, she picked up a notebook
and pen and began to write.  She hasn't stopped since.  
And the moral of the story is this...sometimes kids who
feel different, weird, and misunderstood grow up to write
books and such.