AJ Alanson, Author

This time of year, I find myself standing in front of window after window, staring out into the winter, and watching the birds. A buffet of seed offerings and heated bird bath keep my guests close through the otherwise lifeless winter and they, in turn, keep me entertained – but I am growing impatient. Even spending my days as an author, on new planets, in new realities, with fantastical abilities, and hundreds of fictional friends eventually isn’t enough to push away the gnawing, niggling compulsion to walk barefoot in the grass or shove my fingers into freshly turned earth.

It’s coming, Spring, in an endless cycle of starting over and every year I’m reminded that I can, also, endlessly start over, and not only because the warming world will draw me into its future, but simply because I’ve succeeded in starting over so many times in the past.