Since the day I learned to write, I’ve always had pen to paper. It started off with “Dear Diary“, which evolved into the much more mature “journalling” by my late teens and beyond. In my angst-filled 20s it was poetry and songs filling the pages of my notebook. My 30s and 40s were dedicated to career and my writing turned into magazine articles and educational projects.
One dark, cold February, I fell into a deep funk that I couldn’t seem to climb out of. I wasn’t enjoying my work anymore. I started imagining another life in another place, immersing myself in British period drama, and watching the scenes over and over again. I became absorbed in a fantasy world and thought I might be going a little crazy. But then, during a snowy walk out on the prairie with my dog, I had a revelation … I’m not crazy, I’m a writer! My fantasy world turned into the beginnings of a novel, I reconnected with the parts of my life I adore, and an author was born.
On that list of things I adore, my home on 20 acres of Alberta prairie and the marvelous creatures I share it with–my husband, three horses, one dog and two cats.
I believe that beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder, and beauty can be found everywhere. Nothing is ordinary.