I enjoyed an idyllic childhood in the provincial county of Brooklyn: listening to the sound of the el train screeching past my bedroom window; at night exiting through gates that guarded my parents’ hardware store (we lived in the apartment above); strategizing how to avoid the high school girls who would shake me down for money on my way to school.
It was in those early years that three themes emerged: a love for nonurban landscapes; a sense of the transitory nature of experiences; and a love of the intimate world between writer and reader.
By seventeen I fledged and started a tour of the USA via college. At that point, as much as I wanted to be a writer–philosopher, my more pragmatic side directed me to study biology. Four schools and two degrees later, however, I remembered that I really had wanted to be a writer. They say you should write what you know, so while working as a research assistant, I turned my Master’s research on stream-dwelling insects into a novel.
Eventually, looking for a means of support closer to writing, I reinvented myself as an editor of manuscripts in the biological sciences. During this transition I started a family; soon after my husband’s job brought us to the Hill Country of Texas.
My two boys have grown up on a quiet gravel road where snakes, tarantulas, scorpions, and giant centipedes are viewed with curiosity. I multitask through writing, editing, and being one of those very involved mothers. Here I remain a stranger in a stranger land, but I go to sleep hearing the sound of the chuck-will’s-widow in the quiet night.