He’s the man. And he’s the reason I write today. God used his book Six Hours One Friday to gently lure me into writing back in 1990. I don’t really remember what he said but I remember that reading his words inspired me to write my own. And I’ve written ever since. The man was born to write. The way he crafts sentences…complete or incomplete…absolutely draws me in and makes me say, “I’ve felt that way my whole life and never knew how to express it.” It is almost as if Max is in my head deciphering my thoughts and then penning them down so that the things running around in my noggin will make sense. I’ve read well over a dozen of his books, probably more. I imagine I’ll keep reading them as long as he writes them. Thanks, Max.