Now here…we get kinda bizarre. I could bore you with a really long and complicated tale about where the kid in this story comes from, who he is, what the significance of the teddy bear actually is, and all that jazz, but I won’t. I’ll simply say that’s he’s a character I’ve had with me pretty much my entire life and leave it at that. I read somewhere once that we write from what we know, and from who we are, and I think that’s an absolute truth about writers, and pretty much all creatives if you boil it all down to the pure essence of it all. More than once I’ve considered that we actually write not because we’re gifted but because we’re broken in some fundamental way, and it’s either write or do something even crazier and more anti-social. On the balance of things, I’ll take the writing.
At least the kid told him where they are though, huh?