The Life of a Writer

As you all know, I spent the last week in Texas visiting family. It was a lovely visit, and you can expect to read more about it later this week.

One of the things I did while I was away, was to look through a memory box with my mom, sister, and brother. The box was mostly items from my mother’s life, but included some more recent mementos from my sister and my childhood (my brother is 11 years younger than I am, and he didn’t have anything in that particular box).

Writing has been a consistent part of my life. I have been writing and illustrating stories for as long as I can remember.  When digging through a memory box that includes items from my life, you can be certain that you will come across some writing that I’ve done.

One interesting thing I rediscovered was a journal I wrote in during high school. In it, I wrote letters to people and said all the things I thought and felt about them. I wrote to boys I’d had crushes on, my parents, people I admired, people who had hurt me, and – strangely – even to some fictional characters (including characters from the book I’ve been working on for the last 9 or 10 years).  The letters are uncensored, an exact record of my perception of the people in my life.
Reading over them, I came to the conclusion that I was not very mean in high school. Even my angriest letters were polite.

I also ran across of a couple of gems from my childhood. Judging by the content, handwriting, and spelling, I would say that both of these were written between the ages of 9 and 11.


(There are several pages to this dragon story, and even some illustrations. Having always been fascinated by dragons and fairies, this story does not surprise me in the least.)




(I only vaguely remember beginning this project. I believe I was on a road trip with my family, and started this to keep me occupied. How fascinating that I only thought to include the name and the size…)

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