Several years ago, my husband and I decided on a whim to visit the Unitarian Universalist church in our town. We didn’t know what to expect. Inside, a man looked up and asked, “Are you here for directions?”

What we found was a small, big-hearted group full of kindness, quirks, and an eagerness to help. On the way home, I told my husband, “There could be a TV show about that group. And I’d watch it.”

I truly believe that what we read steers what we write. Some books become blueprints, others become whispers, and then there are those rare ones that crack something open.
As I write Thirteen Weeks in Digby, I keep returning to the stories that shaped its voice, heart, and humor.