I grew up in a once-small, now large, town in Illinois, the second of four children. We swam, built forts, played baseball and kick-the-can, and caught fireflies on summer nights; in the winter we rode our sleds down the highest hill in town. The library was my favorite place, and by the time I was in the third grade, I knew I wanted to be a writer. On the way, I became a teacher, a wife, a mom, a librarian,
and, finally, a published writer.
My family and I have lived in eight towns in three states and two foreign countries, and each time we moved to a new place, one of the first things we did was look for the library and a place to buy good popcorn. Now, we grow our own popcorn, but we still look for good books.
I love to bike, read, travel and hike, especially the long-distance paths in England. I like dark chocolate, strawberry-rhubarb pie, the color turquoise, the scent of a baby, knitting socks, the call of a loon, winter sunrises, playground sounds, and the village where I live. I love a good book.
Why I wrote Mr. Rochester
My book group was discussing Jane Eyre, and not surprisingly the talk drifted to Mr. Rochester, this strange and inconsistent man who is sometimes playful and other times angry, who seems to care for Jane but romances Miss Ingram, and who, it turns out, keeps his insane wife in an upstairs apartment.
Who is he, really, and why is Jane attracted to him? I thought I needed to know more about his background, so that I could understand how he became the man that Jane met on the roadside that cold January evening.
"If there is a book you really want to read but it hasn't been written yet, then you must write it." ----Toni Morrison
My copy of Jane Eyre with post-its for my notes.
Hiking in Mr. Rochester's Yorkshire.