I thought I’d take a little trek down Memory Lane via Sentimental Highway and talk a bit about my writing journey. My family has a home video of me at age three telling a story in an unintelligible Southern accent about pink dogs (my mom translates in the video, which is the only reason we can understand it now). So basically: I’ve been telling stories since I could talk. Growing up, Dad read to me and my siblings every night—you know, the light stuff like Lord of the Rings (three times between the span of me being 7-13) and Once...