The idea for the book came about while I was working abroad on a theater show, with a fair bit of downtime. Before leaving, I'd been helping our son, Arlen, as he made first contact with a few instruments: keyboards and synthesizers, guitar, and a variety of tuned percussion instruments. It did not always go well. His intense love of music was matched by an equally intense desire for immediate results. This combination often led to a considerable amount of frustration. To help Arlen cope with this frustration, I decided to write a short rhyming story that would be similar in many ways to those found in his favorite picture books. My initial vision was for the book to encourage practice and sticktoitiveness, enshrining the many virtues of delayed gratification. Mercifully, I came to my senses and abandoned that idea as utter nonsense. It dawned on me that our boy's innocence and earnestness fueled a kind of rock power, that unnamed spark of creative joy that many of us in the music industry have chased in practice spaces and recording studios for decades. It's the very thing that makes a kid, a kid. Our five-year-old boy is Thoreau's "childlike mirthfulness" come to life. He dances like there's no one watching; he doesn't know any other way. He sings with abandon, and sometimes, he roars. In the end, I thought that if he learns something from the book, wonderful, but above all else, I wanted this book to help ensure that he never forgets how to roar.