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I am not one of those who always wanted to be a writer, though I suspect I wanted to be just about everything else -- doctor, astronaut, artist, scientist, and concert pianist, to name only a few. My actual careers were not quite so exciting. Designing computer software and running horse shows gave way to motherhood, home improvement projects, and teaching piano. But books have always been one of the cornerstones of my life.
When I was growing up in the mid-west, reading and music kept me sane through frequent changes of address. As an adult, books offered a respite from the strain of daily living. Often I would finish the last page with the thought, I wish I were that creative. Occasionally it would change to, Surely even I could do better than this! So one day I tried. But this is not a fairy tale, folks. My first book was less than stellar. In fact, it stunk. Good writing is hard work. But I enjoyed the process (or maybe I just enjoy playing God) so I tried again. By the third tale, I had a publishable story.
Where am I headed in the future? I don’t yet know. For now, I write regencies. It is a fascinating period and an entertaining genre. My work is classed as traditional though I don’t consider it in quite that way. I try to avoid clichés -- except for happy endings, of course; those are what offer us respite from that daily crisis. But I like to pose universal problems to my characters and then watch them find solutions. I have long been fascinated by how people surmount problems to find the happiness that we all deserve.
These days my spare time is limited. Writing consumes most of my day. I still read as much as ever and keep up with the world of science. And everyone knows better than to step between me and a TV during football season -- it somehow takes an extra month to complete fall manuscripts.
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