More About Me
If I must be honest (and I must; I have a horrible need to be honest to my own detriment), I shouldn't be writing at all. Perhaps the only reason I do is because I'm too stubborn. (Yep. There you have it: horribly honest and stubborn. It's a dreadful combination.) If I could be anything in the world, it makes little sense that I tackle what I'm worst at: language.
Language has always been my bane.
As a small child I was a late speaker, and when I did begin to speak I had the most comical ways of pronouncing words. My family uses some of their favorites of my mangled utterances to this day when a holiday gathering needs a good laugh around the dinner table. I don't mind now and didn't then, but it irked me beyond reason that I also couldn't read. I loved stories and books, and my parents often read to me and my siblings, but my independence demanded I should be able to read by myself. I heard somewhere in my wee years that children could read by age six, and I couldn't wait to reach that magical age when it would all finally make sense to me. Instead, for me, that magical age was 16. I could read prior to age 16 but not well enough to read a novel. You may think you can imagine the triumph I felt reaching that first THE END, but really you can't unless you're a mad fool who must forever struggle. My reaction was to plot the next logical conquest: I needed to write my own book.
And write books I did, for as a child who loved stories and books but who couldn't read, I had needed to make up my own stories. As a result there was no shortage of material. But, I also read and read and read. I had a lot of catching up to do.
Short stories were easiest, and I devoured science fiction anthologies as I planned my career as an astronaut. As university loomed, earth-bound professions caught my interest as I decided I needed to save the world's endangered species, and my literary tastes turned toward the classics. While reading the classics I finally read THE LORD OF THE RINGS, and my love for epic fantasy was born. At the same time, my love for my work as a field biologist started to wan, for although it took me on may great adventures none of them seemed to help animals very much.
When a job opportunity for my husband offered us a chance to explore the magical island of Cape Breton, we couldn't refuse. (Cape Breton really is full of old magic. If you come here you'll see.) As my husband worked to help all our furry friends, I turned my efforts toward working with children as a science and natural history interpreter and for the first time imagined trying to publish some of my tales. (It's probably the magic that makes me do it.)
This website is a result of all the tales scribbled as I renovated my old farmhouse; shaped my bit of land; hiked the highlands; surfed the beaches; coached tackle football; volunteered with youth groups, the elderly, the poor and abuse survivors; and raised my son and nineteen furry kids. It's been a long road I continue to travel, but along the way I've learned a lot, and my stories reflect that. I love triumph, but know hard work usually preceeds it, and my stories show that evolution of character. I also love learning and believe that's what makes us greater people, and I show that in my stories as well. And I love adventures, so my stories are filled with those. But I'm also a firm believer in social justice, equality and the power of acceptance, of the self and of others, hence the rainbow. My stories reflect that as they celebrate young heroes--the big ones and the small ones, the determined and the reluctant, and the ones you least expect. Because I believe every kid is a hero.