I’ve lived in the coastal South for more than thirty-three years . . .
. . . though for a decade my late husband and I also owned a cabin at the edge of a national forest in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Georgia. We loved spending time there with our two boys.
Eventually, those boys grew up and went out on their own, leaving me with more time to read at least some of the books on my TBR list.
Actually, I listen to a lot of audiobooks while I walk, cook or build jigsaw puzzles. All of those activities keep my creative juices flowing!
I’m also a proud member of the little “writer hiker” group we’ve formed near me. We hike inland trails in the winter, but move to the beach in the summer months to get away from the bugs. The sea breeze there also gives us a bit of a reprieve from the heat and humidity.
I started writing fiction when I was in my mid-forties. My debut novel, The Truth About Love, was a finalist for the RWA Golden Heart Award®, which was like the Oscars for unpublished romance novels. It has been published in English, German and Turkish.
I spent three decades in Corporate America, much of it as a vice president of human resources in a fairly conservative industry. I’m grateful to have now broken free from parking garages, required office hours and corporate dress codes. I’m now able to let my artistic flag fly high as a full-time author. I love being immersed in stories every day–both my own and those written by others. My world is now filled with ideas, creativity and non-dress-code-compliant leggings.
Many people would swear I’m an extrovert, but I’m an introvert through and through. I crave time to read, write and ponder the world. I’ll gladly attend any bookish event near me, but will always return to the quiet solitude of home.
I grew up in the Ozark Mountains in Springfield, Missouri, and moved farther south after college, when I fell in love with a Florida boy. I moved sight unseen–such a stupid thing to do!–but it had a happy ending. Though the South is hot and humid in the summer, I don’t think I could live where it snows again. I’m now such a wimp!
Thank you again for spending time with me. I appreciate you being here.