My name’s Tanner, I’m fifteen. Three weeks ago I ran away from home. I hitchhiked from Redondo Beach to Santa Cruz with my surfboard (a six-seven Ukelele, quad fin), a sleeping bag and my backpack. It’s possible my mom hasn’t missed me. She’s got a drinking problem (vodka) and often she doesn’t know what day of the week it is. I quit school a few months back and Mom didn’t notice, nor did anyone else. It’s OK. Books and I don’t agree, plus I don’t like teachers telling me what to do: sit here, do this, be quiet, stop picking your nose.
My first short story was published in a literary review called Sabal. I attended a writer’s conference at Eckerd College in St. Petersburg, Florida, and my story, titled Crawford Creek, won the “best of” conference award in the short story category. You can purchase a copy of the 2007 edition of Sabal online from Eckerd College here: Crawford Creek is a sort of ghost story. It takes place at my fishing camp on the Chassahowitzka River, north of Tampa.