The picture (and embedded video) are all the photographic evidence I have left of a family trip to the Grand Canyon. I had an album of older photos, but I think it must have been a casualty of the fire because I cannot find it. By this time I had written my first novel. Hand written on recycled paper, where it remains. I never made it through putting it into typeface. I like to think this little one would be happy with where she ended up. (Although she would be pissed I hadn’t done something with that historical fiction she wrote at thirteen.)