For 30 years I’ve walked this earth. Not a very long time by most accounts, but I count myself excruciatingly privileged to have traversed a fraction of the places I’ve been, met countless remarkable people, lived through hundreds of unforgettable experiences; and, most of all, to have been submerged in the oceans full of love that this world and the people in it have drowned me in, mostly undeserving. So it is for this planet, for these people, and for the life we are so fortunate to live that I write these stories.

I won’t pretend like all the stories are flawless, or that I’ve accurately captured even the smallest glint of the diamonds in my characters’ eyes. To me, that’s neither the purpose of writing, nor the goal of any form of art. To me, stories aren’t meant to be purely perfect, or immaculately beautiful, or absolutely truthful. Stories are like us, loveable in our oddities, pure in our impurities, whole in our brokenness. If  I were to subscribe to any truth it would be Rumi’s words: “The cure for pain is in the pain. Good and bad are mixed. If you don’t have both, you don’t belong with us.”

And so, dear reader, my hope, my deepest dream is for my words to bring you closer to a love (of any form), and an acceptance (of any kind), or at least an appreciation (however frail and fleeting) of all that this world is and all that humanity can encompass. And also know that this is the desire of my own writing for myself, because it is rarely easy to find grace in the suffering and pain that our world seems so abundant in producing. Please let me know if I have come anywhere near my goals in these stories. And share your stories with me. I’m always eager to hear more.

Yours,

Levi Andrew  Noe