K.K. Edwards
On a day road trip one summer, my husband and I happened upon a shoe tree. I had no idea those things existed: trees with hundreds of shoes dangling from branches and more strewn all over the ground.
The very first time I saw that tree, I knew I had to write a story about it: A murderer throws his young victims' shoes into the arms of a great bur oak--his "special place" to visit later, and remember...
Eek.
Shoe trees appear in a few of my novels now. They're kind of haunting; I mean, think of all the people whose shoes have been tossed up there and left to rot. I can't help but think, You poor forgotten people, I see your shoes; now tell me your stories...
The very first time I saw that tree, I knew I had to write a story about it: A murderer throws his young victims' shoes into the arms of a great bur oak--his "special place" to visit later, and remember...
Eek.
Shoe trees appear in a few of my novels now. They're kind of haunting; I mean, think of all the people whose shoes have been tossed up there and left to rot. I can't help but think, You poor forgotten people, I see your shoes; now tell me your stories...
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