I was born and raised a Kansas girl. The first two decades of my life were shaped by the small-town experience, with a host of hardworking, friendly folk serving as role models. In those days and in that setting, doors were seldom locked. People trusted one another. Children played outside, reluctantly calling it a day at their mother’s umpteenth call to supper. I experienced first love in a small community. And my first heartbreak. I’ve known the painful sting of gossip there, as well. Thus, setting the perfect backdrop for my writings.
I’d have to say, my passion for writing fiction in particular began in grade school, when my two besties and I coauthored our first novel. A best seller, no doubt, had we published it.
Since our book’s genre was Mystery and Suspense, the scrawling of mere words on a page could not suffice our anxious hearts. We needed to act out each exciting detail first—experiencing its spine-tingling plot and gripping action, to get a real feel for things.
Afterward we would rush, breathless, to our hideout behind the garage to capture it all on our yellow Big Chief Tablet pages—cut, folded, and stapled in the center, to make it the perfect-sized book. Our little #2 pencils raced to keep up with our imaginations. Ah, those were the days.
Creative Writing classes fueled my love for fiction and honed my writing skills up through my third semester in college. I consumed books back then. Couldn’t get enough of them. Still can’t.
Big-city life, two failed marriages, and drug addiction claimed the next three-plus decades. Reading became my refuge during those turbulent times. A means of escape. My writing died out for lack of vision.
In 1981, I surrendered my life to Jesus Christ. That simple decision moved me into a time of much-needed deliverance and healing, and the restoration of my second marriage.
Years later, my lost dream of writing resurrected in the form of journaling. Jesus, alone, read my most cherished thoughts and vulnerable confessions. He patiently tolerated my unabashed railings.
He remained my greatest encourager and fan, until the day my mother handed me a ‘How To’ book on fiction writing. After reading it, I exclaimed, “I think I can do this!”
I completed my first fiction novel in 2008. It served as my springboard, my intense learning curve. My worst antagonist. It has yet to bear a title or see the light of public perusal.
From there, I ventured into inspirational writing—delving some into my sacred journal entries—and was pleased that a number of my articles made it into the Gospel Tract Society’s monthly magazine The Harvester and ARM Ministries International’s newsletter. I was pumped!
Thanks to our ornery dog, Maggie, and our long, drawn-out struggles to establish who was alpha (hold on a sec, she wants me to get her a biscuit), I have a wealth of humorous stories to pull from, two of which made it into dog magazines.
Some years ago, I gathered the courage to embark again on another fiction project—this time, with the encouragement and input from a Christian writers group. My novel The Passage of Zoe Fuller was first published in December 2013, and then again (The Passage of Zoe Fuller, Revised Edition), in 2019 as an Amazon kindle book. The paperback is available through this website. Its sequel, Kickshaw, Rite of Passage was released in summer 2020.