About Me
I have loved reading and writing for as long as I can remember. Both parents were voracious connoisseurs of books and knowledge, and sticklers for grammar and spelling, so it came naturally – or maybe, I had little choice. We owned a small library in our home but also went to the library regularly as a family event. Before it was time to return our books to the library, I had usually read all of mine, some of my mother’s. Occasionally, if my father got fiction, I read his, too. I read in the car, in the dark, outdoors, indoors, at the dinner table, on the toilet, in groups, alone . . . you get the idea; I loved to read.
I started writing in fourth grade and won first place in a science fiction writing contest which still, all these years later, seems odd to me because I read very little science fiction and haven’t written any since. For forty years, my writing was mostly for work or for myself - sappy teen poems, journals, love letters, and letters I would never send. Most of it stayed hidden away in drawers and boxes, and at one point I burned everything after someone violated my privacy.
During the busy years, with kids at home, jobs, committees, and commitments, I did most of my writing after the kids were in bed and when I should have been in bed. As with many other things in life, when I started taking my writing seriously, and thought maybe I had something worth sharing, I became obsessed. Sometimes, I didn’t put the pen down (still prefer to write everything by hand first) until it was time to go to work. There was always a pen and something to write on next to me – in the car, on the nightstand in case I woke with an idea, on the dining room table, on the end tables . . . The wake-up call came when, on a date, I whipped a pen and pad out of my purse and scribbled in the dark. It was a concert – of course lyric ideas would come to me there. (I have about 100 wanna-be songs that I call poems, although I don’t consider myself a poet.) The date was a little offended.
Writing provided a bright spot when the doctors told me I would not be able to work anymore. Going from a full life to sitting home alone every day would surely have devastated me if I hadn’t had a passion to turn to. The first few years, I wrote all day while my daughter was in school. Her job was to read my work aloud to me while I drove her to whichever activities she was scheduled for that evening. I discovered how much fun it could be to create a world of people and places, just the way I wanted them. And then, when a few characters came to life and showed me they were going to do it their way instead of mine, it was even more fun.
I took a few writing classes on the internet and bought several shelves of writing books. The first six years, I wrote a novel a year. It was the perfect way to entertain myself and I was fortunate to meet a pioneer in the e-publishing business who published all six of those books. I had five others sitting in various stages of completion when I admitted to myself that I needed to study more before introducing them to the real world. So, I put them aside (lost a couple in transition from floppy to CD) and joined writing groups on the internet. I focused on stopping short of 90,000 words--essays, articles, short stories, blog entries, and hundreds of letters to Mitch McConnell which I published on a blog, along with his inane responses—and seeking advice and critique from other writers. I met wonderful people and learned a great deal.
I also spent a lot of time on art and crafts. I cross-stitched my daughters, granddaughters, a cousin’s granddaughter, and President Obama. I painted, colored, and drew hundreds of pictures of nothing, and, I crocheted enough doilies to cover a small town. Now that I finally have a website, I am going to use it for both writing and crafts. Just hope I don’t get brave enough to sing a few of my wanna-be songs and post them on here, too.
Now, I’m back to writing. I pulled out Silver Lining--which I had to rename since a movie by that name had been released while I let it sit--and Song in My Heart, cleaned them up, and decided I was ready to let them get out of the house. And, although a few have discouraged it, I am going to use my artwork on the covers of the books. To me, it makes sense and my doodles do relate to the stories. I hope you will invite them into your homes and love them as much as I do.
My goal in writing and art is to shake up the world a little, and maybe make a few dollars. Please, let me know if my characters, stories, or doodles capture your heart, entertain, inspire, or generate emotions, discussion, or life changes.
I started writing in fourth grade and won first place in a science fiction writing contest which still, all these years later, seems odd to me because I read very little science fiction and haven’t written any since. For forty years, my writing was mostly for work or for myself - sappy teen poems, journals, love letters, and letters I would never send. Most of it stayed hidden away in drawers and boxes, and at one point I burned everything after someone violated my privacy.
During the busy years, with kids at home, jobs, committees, and commitments, I did most of my writing after the kids were in bed and when I should have been in bed. As with many other things in life, when I started taking my writing seriously, and thought maybe I had something worth sharing, I became obsessed. Sometimes, I didn’t put the pen down (still prefer to write everything by hand first) until it was time to go to work. There was always a pen and something to write on next to me – in the car, on the nightstand in case I woke with an idea, on the dining room table, on the end tables . . . The wake-up call came when, on a date, I whipped a pen and pad out of my purse and scribbled in the dark. It was a concert – of course lyric ideas would come to me there. (I have about 100 wanna-be songs that I call poems, although I don’t consider myself a poet.) The date was a little offended.
Writing provided a bright spot when the doctors told me I would not be able to work anymore. Going from a full life to sitting home alone every day would surely have devastated me if I hadn’t had a passion to turn to. The first few years, I wrote all day while my daughter was in school. Her job was to read my work aloud to me while I drove her to whichever activities she was scheduled for that evening. I discovered how much fun it could be to create a world of people and places, just the way I wanted them. And then, when a few characters came to life and showed me they were going to do it their way instead of mine, it was even more fun.
I took a few writing classes on the internet and bought several shelves of writing books. The first six years, I wrote a novel a year. It was the perfect way to entertain myself and I was fortunate to meet a pioneer in the e-publishing business who published all six of those books. I had five others sitting in various stages of completion when I admitted to myself that I needed to study more before introducing them to the real world. So, I put them aside (lost a couple in transition from floppy to CD) and joined writing groups on the internet. I focused on stopping short of 90,000 words--essays, articles, short stories, blog entries, and hundreds of letters to Mitch McConnell which I published on a blog, along with his inane responses—and seeking advice and critique from other writers. I met wonderful people and learned a great deal.
I also spent a lot of time on art and crafts. I cross-stitched my daughters, granddaughters, a cousin’s granddaughter, and President Obama. I painted, colored, and drew hundreds of pictures of nothing, and, I crocheted enough doilies to cover a small town. Now that I finally have a website, I am going to use it for both writing and crafts. Just hope I don’t get brave enough to sing a few of my wanna-be songs and post them on here, too.
Now, I’m back to writing. I pulled out Silver Lining--which I had to rename since a movie by that name had been released while I let it sit--and Song in My Heart, cleaned them up, and decided I was ready to let them get out of the house. And, although a few have discouraged it, I am going to use my artwork on the covers of the books. To me, it makes sense and my doodles do relate to the stories. I hope you will invite them into your homes and love them as much as I do.
My goal in writing and art is to shake up the world a little, and maybe make a few dollars. Please, let me know if my characters, stories, or doodles capture your heart, entertain, inspire, or generate emotions, discussion, or life changes.
