From Wyoming to Nebraska and Colorado, I have most recently landed in Montana. Freezing Montana. Seriously, as I write this, it is the end of February and we are seeing above zero for the first time in months. As a small girl my grandmother spoke of the winters being so cold in Montana, the little calves lost their ears and tails to frostbite. I grew up around cattle and those things didn’t happen. It didn’t get that cold. Like many old timer stories, I thought she was exaggerating, after all she hadn’t lived in Montana. She wasn’t. I’ve seen it and I still think poor babies, but great story.
Stories have always been a guilty pleasure of mine, whether curled up with Pride and Prejudice for the hundredth time or a old man’s tale after a Sunday dinner, I am there with listening ears, gleaning every piece of knowledge and experience I can. It wasn’t until I sat in a thankless office job with little to engage my mind, that I began exploring the stories in my own head. Nonfiction writing had come easy to me as a History and Education Major so I figured I would try fiction. It couldn’t be much different. Hah! I started multiple books but never finished a manuscript. Then three children appeared in 3 1/2 years and my head is still spinning slightly from these little people. Needless to say, my writing was derailed. (Sleeping and eating anyone?!?)
After our last child was born, I was diagnosed with depression and returned to journaling and writing as a way to cope. Dusting off an old story, I found a sense of self again. And let’s be honest, it is an excuse to indulge in reading as many books as possible. Because after all, you can’t be a writer without being a reader first. Two years later, my first novel is being edited, and I’ve got more on the back burner waiting to be written, concluded, and finished. Check out the Author Update for more!
If you have a book, a story that needs told or recipe you think this uprooted Wyoming gal living in the 406 needs email me.