Last week, I was all prepared to spend the day at the library pounding out a few chapters of this book, but didn’t even make it an hour.  I drove home hoping to find my husband, Colby, on his lunch break. Surely he could scrape me off the pavement of despair like he’d done so many times. He was finishing up a sandbag workout when I pulled in the driveway and eventually he followed me into the kitchen, panting as he filled a cup with water.   “Why am I writing this book?” I Read More