I rarely talk about my wife Anna. But today is a special exception, for a special reason.
Anna grew up in a mountain town so small it only had one stop sign. He parents grew up during the Great Depression, and they lived in a modest home packed tight with her large family. As a kid, she used to climb up into trees with books to escape the chaos of being the youngest person in the busy house.
Reading led to writing, and she eventually immersed herself in classes and conferences. She worked with as many other published and non-published authors as she could. In particular, she devoted herself to a manuscript that was clearly special.
I met Anna in the late 90’s. Like most people close to her, I admire her honesty, integrity, generosity, and fierce independence. A few years ago, after her manuscript got nominated for the…