I was born in Boston, Massachusetts, the youngest of four children. The age difference between my sister and me is fourteen years; so, until I was seven and she married, I felt like I had two moms. Mom was a very loving full-time housewife and mother, back in a time when you could still be a full-time housewife and mother. Dad was in the food business, which, as some of you may know, is kind of like being in the military when it comes to moving around. We spent very little time in Boston. In fact by the time I was six, we had lived in Newport, Rhode Island, Cocoa Beach, Florida, Huntington, West Virginia and Springdale, Ohio. My dad used to say we were Gypsies, always on the move; so we didn’t stop there. We actually had four different addresses between Cincinnati and Dayton before went south and settled in South Carolina … temporarily. From there it was Orlando, Florida, then Warner Robins, Georgia, Charlotte, North Carolina, and then back to Georgia, winding up in Warner Robins again.
It was old hat for me to up and move on a moment’s notice, so when I graduated from Morrow Senior High just south of Atlanta in 1982, I moved back to Warner Robins and started my own foray into restaurant management. Warner Robins is a little Air Force town right smack dab in the middle of the state of Georgia. As an adult, I moved away from Warner Robins three different times, only to return. That must mean that either there’s something very wrong with my career choices or something very right about the town that I love. (I fear that both may be true.)
It has been a long time since I lived up north, but I’m still a rabid New England Patriots fan!
As a child, I had dreams of becoming a writer. I was always carrying around some sort of notebook, scribbling lines about plots and dialogue between characters. When I was eleven, I won second place in a young authors contest! I still have the certificate to prove it. I wrote an ugly duckling story about a caterpillar, and my sister, the artist in the family, did the illustrations. I was so proud!
Over the years I continued to write. From science fiction and fantasy to mystery and thriller, and everything in between—you name it, I wrote it. Trouble was, I never completed any of the stories. My strength is creating ideas and storytelling; my weakness is following through. But not anymore.
In April 2009, I traveled to Kamensk-Uralski, Russia with my church. We visited colleges, universities (no, in Russia they’re not the same), orphanages, and other places in and around this relatively small community. I returned with the mission team twice more in November 2009 and April 2010. The inspiration I found through these experiences prodded me to act on the gift that God gave to me, the gift of telling stories.
On June 20th, 2010, after years of frustration with the direction that my life was headed, I got down on my knees and asked God what he wanted me to do. The next day I started writing Mirrored Man, a story that I had been thinking about for years. Five months later, Mirrored Man had grown into a trilogy, and book one was complete.
I finally became a writer (albeit a starving one) over the summer of my 46th year.
One chapter ends…another begins.