Apples have become symbolic of the teaching profession. You have probably all seen a stock photo of a teacher's desk. The work surface of the desk is mostly empty with the exception of a pen and a perfectly sharpened pencil. A neat little stack of books is situated in the corner. Sitting on top of the books is a flawless, shiny green apple that gives off a celestial glow. This is not reality. In twenty-first century schools, students do not give shiny green apples to their teachers. A student once left an apple core on my desk after lunch once, but that was both accidental and unwanted. A teacher's desk does not usually look like a good landing pad for a helicopter either. My desk is usually heaped with marking, textbooks, notes from students and parents, my untouched lunch, hundreds of pens and pencils, chalk, confiscated glue bottles, scissors, the Dead Sea Scrolls, Waldo, etc. I could go on, but I'm sure you get the picture. Teaching is not for the faint of heart. It is a high energy, full contact, adrenaline summoning, hair raising (and pulling), exhilarating profession. If you enjoy getting a lot of sleep, steer clear of teaching. Many hours in the middle of the night are spent thinking, stressing, praying, plotting, scheming, and planning. This book was born out of one of these nocturnal strategy sessions. My class was struggling with Creative Writing. They were good writers on the whole, but their writing was lacking some zip and personality. They were used to writing what the teacher wanted them to write and I needed to de-program them. I wanted them to write about things that were interesting to them. I wanted to know what their passions were, what made them laugh or what made them angry. If the students wrote something that was interesting or important to them, then writing would become more enjoyable. That is when I began sharing my own stories with the class.