I am a lifelong swimmer and sometimes writer. For years I swam in the basement of the Jewish Community Center in San Francisco. With all the time to think in the pool, every flip-turn at the wall was a bit like turning the page of a new idea or inspiration. But once I’d surface, something that was momentarily thrilling would vanish as soon as I stopped to look at the pool's surrounding activity. Water aerobics. Lifeguards changing shifts. The constant ebb and flow of the lane lines for the next class. When catching my breath, my eyes often landed on the kids’ swim lessons. I’d been pushing kids into waves for a few years with City Surf Project, and the instruction style was very similar. As was the magic that occurs when a young person is first terrified of the water and then triumphantly embraces it. Kids playing in the water is just the greatest. An idea I kept coming back to was trying to take something so pure—a kid learning to swim—and combine it with something dark and complex—like weapons trafficking. Often, I hung on the wall, transfixed by the story concept of a swim coach acting as a…
