My first foray into fiction was at eight years old. I wrote at night. When my parents discovered the illustrated stories I kept tucked beneath my mattress, there was trouble. It was obvious I wasn't getting the recommended sleep. My parents were vexed…staying up to write?
The content of these midnight musings confirmed their suspicions: I was weird. They hoped this was a phase.
Fifty years hence, I still stay up late delighting in the pursuit. My life has been anything but normal. Through the best, the worst, and sheer mediocrity, I have loved the creative adventure. What fun to discover I am at another crossroads! I suspect I’m not going to grow out of this phase. I guess I’ve always been lucky that way.
Some of my published work is posted here