Like Facebook popups of memories from years past, I had a vision of a distant Fourth of July. I was nearing the end of my first novel, Trees with Deeper Roots, and still a novice fiction writer. Up until I’d started that novel, I’d only written journalistically. Fiction returned me to the roots of my writing desires, and it definitely stretched me as writer. The Fourth of July was coming up and fell in such a way that I was able to schedule an extra day off, giving me several