I love books.
I read them. I write them. I spent eight and a half years selling them. I hoard them like I’m hoping to someday build a castle with books for walls. Okay, not that last one. Well, not a castle at least. Maybe a modest cabin or kickass fort.
But, I adore books. Because I believe in them. Not ‘believe in’ like how I believe in Sasquatch (Okay, yeah, wishful thinking. OR IS IT??), but I believe in the ability of stories, real and imaginary, to transport, to entertain, to teach. Want to know what it might feel like to ride a dragon? Read a book. Want to understand the role of derivatives trading in the financial crisis of 2008? Read a book. Wonder what it feels like to live through a revolution; wear a 17th century corset dress; have a portion of your soul expressed externally as an animal; go to war; time travel; be a human specimen in an alien zoo? Read books!
And because I adore and believe in books, I have shaped my life around them, from growing up always having a few within reach, to studying English Lit in college, to working at an independent bookstore through most of my twenties, to going from scribbling horrible first attempts at a novel in stacks of notebooks and journals to this new adventure as a professional author.
In less book-centric life, I grew up in small town Wyoming and after a ten year stint in Laramie now live with my husband and son in even smaller town Idaho, where apart from reading and writing, I enjoy painting, snowboarding, petting my two giant hairy dogs, and staring at the Tetons while feeling fortunate that I get to live somewhere so intensely beautiful.