I love writing. I love the way words fit together to convey meaning, the pictures that can be painted with just the right selection of words. I started on on it early — just as soon as I could string enough words together to make sentences. Sentences made stories, and I knew all about stories.

I grew up surrounded by stories. My grandmother told them to me, my mother read them to me out of library books, and my aunt recited them to me in the form of memorized poetry. As soon as I could read them on my own, I devoured the household collection of books, and then read through the juvenile section of the local library. I wrote poetry in the form of quatrains starting in second grade, wrote my first real short story in 6th grade and completed my first novel my senior year in high school.

Through out the subsequent years, I wrote myriad short stories, poetry and two novel length manuscripts while being gainfully employed and raising three children. Two years ago, I discovered the world of writing for the Internet, and finally began realizing my dream of earning money from writing. This year, I am retiring from teaching to write almost full time. I’m excited and a little bit scared; this is a big step.