The inspiration for a story can start from the oddest of places, and the resulting novel may end up as distant from that seed as an acorn is to an oak tree. My newest novel began on a cloudy spring day in Ballard, Washington. I had an appointment that afternoon that left me with some time on my hands, so I decided to go for a walk. Friends had told me about the Hiram M, Chittenden Locks, more commonly known as the Ballard Locks.

Built more than a hundred years ago, the locks allow boats to pass from Puget Sound to Lake Washington, adjusting for a water height difference that can be between ten and thirty feet, depending on the season. On the day I visited the locks, there was little boat traffic. I watched as a modest sailboat with a lone sailor on board entered the smaller of the two locks, The massive iron gate closed behind him, and the water began to drain. As the level lowered, he found himself in a kind of cage, with four imposing walls surrounding him well above his head, making any view of what lay beyond impossible.

When the level had settled, the gate in front began to creak open. As it did, I imagined what might happen if on the other side lay, not the familiar lake, but an entirely new and unexpected world. What if, in place of the above view, he saw something more like this, a magical world that let him leave his troubles behind and provide the opportunity to conjure a new world of his making.

And thus, my seventh novel, The Maker of Worlds, was born.