When you sit down to write a book, it’s often said you should have your ideal reader in mind. You want to think about the person who will love your book the most, who needs your book the most ... and write for them.

My problem is this: My ideal reader doesn’t typically read books.

“Strong Like You” follows an impoverished football player searching for his missing father across the hills of the Ozarks. Along the way, he learns the meaning of true strength – and it’s not what he was raised to believe.

True strength, as it turns out, is vulnerability.

This is a dire lesson young men need to learn. Did you know around 132 men die by suicide per day? Did you know men account for around 70 percent of all suicide deaths? Did you know 93.3 percent of our prison population are men? Did you know ninety percent of people who commit violent physical assault are men and account for 95 percent of all domestic violence?

I refuse to believe men are inherently violent, inherently worse, inherently problematic.

And yet.

Under the current system, the current way we are doing things – we are.

We’ve gotta change something.

If you ask me, it starts with empathy. And studies have shown reading increases empathy. We have to find a way to raise a generation of boys and men who are eager to read, not just stories about themselves ... but all types of stories.

At the same time ... we need stories that can get them in the door.

That is what I hope “Strong Like You” can be. A gateway drug to literature, so to speak.

I don’t know if you’ve walked down to the YA section at your local library or the bookstore, but those books typically are not marketed toward the type of kid I think can get the most out of my story.

This is not a critique of YA at large. The YA section is full of wonderful stories and books. And if it is marketed largely to young women, it is likely with very good reason. I believe it is assumed boys who read will skip ahead to the science fiction section, horror section or other adult book section.

And besides that, YA is one of maybe two sections marketed toward women, the other being romance. So men have the entire rest of the bookstore, so to speak. Books exist at least in part to make money. And if a particular type of person isn’t showing up to the table then the logical question to ask is: who is gonna buy the book?

A good question. It’s one I’ve been mulling over a lot lately.

Don’t get me wrong.

I think anyone can get something good from “Strong Like You.” But there is a particular type of kid who I think needs Walker Lauderdale in their life.

We’ve all read books about rural folks dealing with struggle. I’ve loved many of those books. But sometimes I think some of those books are for others to marvel at us southerners, to say to themselves, “I can’t believe people live like this.”

But “Strong Like You” is for the kid who grew up in it, the kid who is living it right now. When we are young, our communities can feel insular. They can make you think the whole world is like the one you’ve experienced. But it’s not.

I want to be the stepping stone into the wider world of literature for these kids.

But first ...

I have to get the book into their hands.

And that’s the tough part.

This is where you...if you're still reading...can help me out. You gotta tell a kid about this book. Buy it for them. Get it in their hands somehow.