I started making up stories when I learned to string words into sentences, and began penning them as soon as I learned to hold a pencil--sometimes in words, sometimes in pictures. Sometimes in the pictures I drew around the eraser holes in the paper. I used my stories to entertain my five younger siblings while I forced them---brothers too--to roll yarn and learn to knit. Even at 9, I was bossy, but they got stories, and I had assistants. Win, win! Later those stories filled in the lonely moments when we moved from state to state for my father's job. My mother gave me time away from the kids and chores to "run off and write". My sister, De, encouraged me, used her allowance to make sure I never ran out of supplies, and celebrated with me when I started publishing stories and articles in high school.
I eventually met and married my very own Prince Charming, a feisty Cajun Spaniard, who insisted on making all my dreams come true. Who was I to argue? Over the years while rearing our two children, I've published articles and stories here and there – four novellas, one novel-- but just to pass the time between needlework projects and school functions. Now that the children are in college, I have time for writing, and am in earnest. The needles and string are still here, but those projects are now far fewer than the writing projects.