Beginnings: I am a writer because I am a reader.

I grew up at home with books. My parents’ bookshelves were wonders to explore. I flipped through history books and National Geographic magazines, looking at the pictures and imagining the places where they were taken. Our bedtime ritual included one of my favorite times of the day—story time. My siblings and I memorized the stories, leading to family legends of how we would correct Dad or Mom if they happened to “accidentally” skip a word or page.

My passion for reading bloomed when I learned to read. While I fondly remember Dick, Jane, Sally, and Spot, my first real book was Little House on the Prairie, by Laura Ingalls Wilder. As my reading advanced from stumbling phonetic deciphering to fluency, I forgot the words and lived the stories. My imagination painted exciting adventures with Laura Ingalls, Tom Sawyer, and so many other new friends from my books. My imagination took me around the world and back in time. I was in love with reading.

As I devoured books, I soaked in the English language and began to appreciate the rhythm and flow of words for themselves. I dabbled in poetry, wrote my secret thoughts in journals, and eventually tried creating my own stories.

My schooling enhanced this exploration of the written word. By the time I reached college, I had discovered the joy of research and a knack for document writing, editing, layout, and design. At work, I use these skills to craft web pages, brochures, and publications. I feel a deep satisfaction with each completed and posted web page or newsletter, and a real pride in my work, but I crave more creative outlet.

Years ago—more years than I like to admit—I turned that creativity to writing my first novel. Then life happened and I let it distract me from my goal of seeing my manuscript published. Now I am unearthing my book from its long repose on my hard drive. My goal for 2011 is to finally re-write and edit my novel for distribution on my beloved Kindle. Publication as an ebook is only the beginning.