As a kid, the thing I loved to do more than anything was read. I grew up in the Midwest and I spent many a weekend afternoon happily browsing in the stacks of our county library which was housed in a stately early-twentieth century building with four tall columns flanking the front entrance, and which had an inviting airiness on the inside thanks to high ceilings and large windows. In between trips to the library, I supplemented my reading material from the monthly bookmobile visits to our small subdivision, which in typical, rural Midwest fashion was surrounded by fields of corn and soybeans.
Fast forward to today, and I’m thrilled to call myself a published writer. It was a long-held, not-so-terribly-secret ambition of mine to become a writer—a career that, besides letting me tell the stories that live in my head, allows me to indulge my passion for pretty notebooks, colorful pens, and sticky notes. (Why, yes, I do love any excuse which requires a visit to an office supplies store.)
My writing life has evolved over the years. As a teenager, I wrote a lot of angst-filled poetry, branched out into writing Twilight Zone-esque short stories, and inspired by a steady diet of Agatha Christie books, even attempted to write a mystery titled The Murder of Wes Chandler. Then I didn’t write for several years, and when I took it up again, I chose to write Regency-set romances. This may seem a little odd given my earlier writing tastes, but does make sense in light of the fact that Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen has long been one of my favorite books.
These days I love writing happily-ever-afters for my characters, but when I’m not busy at my keyboard, I (still) enjoy reading, puttering amongst my flowerbeds, taking beach vacations, and adding to my already extensive collection of cookbooks.